The Green Flame
by Acrid Fumes
Summary: AU. OOC. Petunia had always lived in the pretense of normalcy. But what if the memories of the past come haunt her once again? Would she just watch helplessly as history repeats itself?
1. What Families Are for

**AN: **I'm new on the site and well...see chapter 2.

**Disclaimer:** _ 

**I. What Families Are For**

"Look Vernon, Hadrian's hair is no longer a mess! The tousles are actually developing into curls! Just think of that!" 

Vernon Dursley just chuckled at his wife's antics. He need not turn to know that Petunia is once again trying to tidy up their nephew's hair. The four year-old's hair had been a total nightmare for Petunia ever since the boy had been left on their doorstep three years ago. 'The magpie nest won't just lie down!' Vernon chuckled again at the remembrance, shaking his head as he flipped to the designated page for the continuation of the news article that he was reading. His furry brow narrowed upon reading the results on the investigation of the death of one renowned scientist, _'The cause of death cannot be determined. There is no sign of physical assault and the autopsy disproved the hypothesis of cardiac arrest.'_ Mystery indeed, but Vernon cannot help but worry. He leaned on the couch, slightly tilting his broad back to take a look at Hadrian playing on the makeshift playpen while Petunia was escorting Dudley out into the restroom. Vernon's focus was now solely on the dark-haired child. His hair was glossy ebony black – just like James's, Vernon had been told once. And his eyes, Vernon can't forget those eyes – Lily's eyes, the same intense green that looked at him with fury when he tried to run away, afraid of the responsibility after he found out that Petunia was pregnant. Yes, those were Lily's eyes. A lump suddenly formed on Vernon's throat as he remembered what Petunia had said after she secretly attended her sister's funeral: '_It was so surreal. They looked like they were just lying there, unmoving without even a single scratch. But as I looked at Lily's eyes, I…I just can't look back. It was not Lily's eyes. Lily's eyes were not like that – they're not dead.'_ A shiver ran down Vernon's spine as he realized that those green eyes were mere inches away from him. 

"Uncle." 

Hadrian's tone was that sweet lilt Vernon found out to mean that the child is asking if you are alright. Vernon just looked straight at those green eyes, uncaring as Hadrian gently trailed a toy car on his arm. Lily's eyes. Did the scientist's eyes look the way Lily's did, dying the same way as she did? Vernon shook himself from the morbid thought and gently rubbed Hadrian's back as the child leaned on him with that question on his green eyes. 

"Just go play with your cars Harry, Uncle just feels like he had too much steak." 

Hadrian pouted, as if to indicate that he doesn't believe him but he just went back to the makeshift playpen and climbed on his electric car and drove towards Dudley and Petunia as if to run over them. Mother and son shrieked and ran around the sitting room as Hadrian chased them off. Dudley soon climbed up on his own car and an impromptu race started, the two children zipping out of the room out into the hallway. Vernon just silently watched them, his thoughts still on the dangers of the magic wielding individuals. He's wary of them, not all of them but of the ones that kill just anyone – even someone as mundane as him. He met Petunia's inquiring eyes and he just forced himself to smile. Magic is dangerous, but it's more dangerous not having it. 

* * *

"You're growing to be such a handsome lad." 

Hadrian just stared at the old woman as the latter laid her hand on his chin. He doesn't know who this wizened lady is with a huge cat cradled on her left arm. The smell of stale cabbage and cat food was mingling unflatteringly with the woman's scent that Hadrian was having a hard time stopping himself from scrunching his nose (it's rude after all). He just diligently wound his yo-yo's string, waiting for the old woman to go. He's quite used to people like her. They would stop from wherever they are going every time they see him and say things like this then they would go once he thank them. 

"Thank you Ma'am." 

"And polite too. Your parents would be very proud…" 

The old lady suddenly faltered, as if realizing that she said something she shouldn't be saying but as she saw that Hadrian's expression did not even change, she smiled to herself and gently patted the child's rosy cheek. 

"Good day to you lad. Mrs. Figg by the way. If your guardians are in need of a minder one of these days, just tell me that I'm always available. Good lad." 

Mrs. Figg left, chuckling to herself as the thought of a four year-old remembering to relay the message to his guardians is quite a preposterous one. But she needs to keep an eye on the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. She has quite an important task but so far everything's as it should be. The boy looked happy and well-taken care of. He was tall for his age, average girth, his skin was delicate and rosy and his facial features were a good mix of his parent's best attribute. All in all he was a handsome and lovable child. Mrs. Figg turned back to see the boy making his toy roll down the slight slope of the roadway, with him following ways behind, tightly gripping the toy's string. An older boy emerged from Number 7. Mrs. Figg was immediately on alert if ever the older boy bullies Hadrian but the older boy just brought out a similar toy and showed Hadrian some tricks using the toy. Upon the assurance of Hadrian's safety, Mrs. Figg continued on her way. She could become accustomed with this life. Retirement as a batty Muggle is not that bad. A floo call to the Hogwarts Headmaster is the last magic-related thing she would be subjected today and after that, she would happily be a Muggle again. 

* * *

"Aunty, Uncle, Mrs. Figg said she could look after me and Dudley when you're not around." 

"Mrs. Figg, the old lady that lives in Wisteria Walk?" 

"Yes Aunty." 

"She's batty!" 

"Dudley! It's not good to say something bad about others!" 

"Batty's bad?" 

Hadrian and Vernon burst into laughter while Petunia is not amused. She was looking them with annoyance. Dudley had recently been playing with a small group of children that Petunia would rather not see around his son but Dudley was adamant on him and Hadrian having common and separate friends. Petunia suspects that it's because most of Hadrian's friends are older and quite advanced. He's having a hard time catching up with them. Hadrian is quite advanced for his age and Dudley a little delayed. She could understand and would rather want her son to be comfortable socially but his choice of friends is quite poor. 

"Is that what you learned from that Polkiss boy? I told you Duddykins that you should avoid him. He is not a very nice boy." 

"Petunia, I think you just misunderstood the boy. Dudley could've just heard it from the neighbors. We haven't even met the boy. You know people; they spread gossip about other kids to make their children look good." 

Petunia was about to say that what she told Mrs. Nicholson about the Polkiss boy wasn't gossip when what Vernon said replayed on her mind. She's not an insecure housewife! Of course not! Her boys are great, there's no need for that nonsense prattle! She huffed and speared her vegetables with much force than necessary. Vernon just smirked from behind his glass. His bushy mustache helped hide his mirth. 

"She felt strange." 

It was addressed to no one in particular. Petunia and Vernon shared a look but Hadrian just continued loading a mixture of vegetables and meat on his spoon before he gently placed the food on his mouth as if what he said was just an unimportant afterthought or something he did not mean to say loudly. 

"Yeah, she smells." 

"Dudley! But yeah, honestly it's true." 

Petunia was now absently dabbing her mouth with the table napkin, her gaze never leaving Vernon all the while. Vernon in turn just looked at Hadrian with unease. It was before Hadrian turned three when they discovered that he has the ability to 'sense' people. They were on the mall, when Vernon accidently knocked on a display of plastic picture frames. He was about to straighten up the display when a young man offered help. Hadrian's eyes suddenly widened at the sight of the man and he suddenly said, 'You use wand'. The man looked surprised and immediately asked if they were also magicals but stiffened when he found out that they were Muggles. He immediately left after that. From then there were other incidents where Hadrian would suddenly say that the person is magical or if the person has bad intentions. But they never asked Hadrian about it but warned the boy to not blurt out what he 'sensed' when in public. 

"What do you feel around her dear?" 

"She's a little like you but different." 

"Huh?" 

"A Squib." 

Petunia suddenly blurted out before she could stop herself. When she realized her blunder, she sharply looked at Vernon who just gave her a confused look. 

"Let's clean up you lot. If you dally, you won't be able to see your favorite show." 

This sprang the children into action, the previous conversation forgotten as the two boys put their plate on the sink and ran to the living room where the sound of a kiddie show's theme song blared just moments after. Petunia refused to meet Vernon's eyes. She busied herself by clearing the table but Vernon's gaze won't leave her. 

"What is Mrs. Figg Pet?" 

There was no response, just the clinking of the glasses as Petunia loaded them into the dishwasher. As she heard Vernon sigh, Petunia turned to see that her husband was taking this issue seriously. The crinkles at the corner of his eyes held no humor but the wear of age. His broad stature, that often make people think of him as brusque and intimidating is now slouched and weary. This is a man that doesn't want to commit another mistake. 

"She's like me Vern. She's like me." 

Petunia can't help it; she started tearing up even if she had told herself years ago that she would never cry over this. But now, just a reminder of it seems to tear her into pieces. Vernon immediately stood to comfort her but stopped, mid step and headed to the direction of the hallway. He reached for the door and locked it before heading back to Petunia and engulfing her in an awkward hug. He had never been the one to become emotional but he knows that this gesture would comfort his wife. 

"I'm sorry Vern, but I never told you." 

"It's okay Pet, just tell me if you're ready." 

"Mom and Dad were both magicals." 

Vernon's grip became tighter. Petunia's voice was muffled as she snuggled on his chest but what he heard can't be wrong. 

"When they found out that I was a Squib… a child born from a magical family without…" 

He understands; his gentle rubbing of Petunia's back is his way of saying this. He knew too well how Petunia envies Lily for supposedly flaunting having something her sister can never have. This confused Vernon for Petunia had always wanted to be just another face in the crowd – to be his wife but why… It's only until now that he realized that there's more to it than just some selfish emotion. 

"…they wanted to live as Muggles just for me – just for me Vern! They did not want to throw me away like any self-respecting Pureblood would do because the…they love me so much, me a lowly Squib! They're willing to give up their life, their magic just for me!" 

"You deserved to be loved Pet. Remember that, you deserved to be loved." 

A single tear fell on Vernon's cheek. He could feel guilt welling up inside him. He wanted to abandon Petunia and their unborn child before…that's what he repaid her after she loved him unconditionally. 

"They always tell me that, and I felt it even when Lily was born things were as they were until when Lily turned five and she did accidental magic." 

Petunia suddenly burst into laughter amidst her tears. Vernon held her on arm's length, confused on what to do with his wife's sudden mood change. 

"She…she somehow got Dad into a Minnie Mouse costume complete with the ears and rat nose." 

Vernon burst into loud chuckles as he wiped Petunia's tear-streaked face with the palm of his hands. Petunia pulled from him and brought out her handkerchief to finish the job. 

"Anyway, she did that after Dad scolded her for cutting the curly fur of our dog to make it into her doll's hair… That event started the worse part of my life. It was my Aunt, my Mom's older sister who told me of who and what I am in the eyes of the magicals. Mom berated her for it; she tried to shelter me from the harsh reality. But I started to hate myself…" 

"Pet, there's no reason for that…" 

"No Vernon you don't understand! You don't understand! Lily can't live in a wizarding household…she have to pretend to be a Muggleborn, she has to endure all the prejudice…just for me! Just for me Vernon! She doesn't know the truth but every time I hear her tell Mom and Dad how the Slytherins torment her…on how James and Sirius tell her that she should take the Heritage test at Gringotts for they are sure that the Evans and Edmonds are a Pureblood family…I know deep inside she suspected it to be true but she was thinking of me – they were all thinking about me!" 

Privet Drive seemed to be oblivious to the emotional turmoil inside No. 4. As she gaze out into the night, all Petunia could see is a peaceful neighborhood with the shadows of playing children visible from the window of No.15 from across the road. Maybe, she should just become the wife and mother that she had always wanted to be. Maybe, she should just pretend that her past did not exist at all. 

"I-I'll just go check on the kids." 

"Petunia. Let's talk about this." 

"I don't think I can do this anymore Vern." 

"But…" 

Petunia just continued on the sink and quickly washed her face before thoroughly drying on a towel. She was halfway to the door when Vernon spoke once again. 

"Would Dudley's life also turn for the worse when Hadrian…" 

That statement hit something deep inside Petunia. She is quite sure that Dudley is also a Squib. She once asked Hadrian what he sensed about Dudley. He just said that Dudley feels like Uncle Vernon. Unbidden tears started to flow from Petunia's eyes. It's happening again and she hasn't thought of what Dudley may think about it. The fear on Petunia's face was enough answer for Vernon. But only time can tell. 


	2. What We Assume

**II.** **What We Assume**

Vernon and Petunia did not know the answer to questions for four years had passed yet Hadrian ('just call me Harry') had not exhibited uncontrollable bouts of magic. This brought the couple into a quandary. They know well that Harry is a wizard. They had broached this subject once to the boy and he was rather calm in accepting such information. He never did ask anything more about the subject that's why they were reluctant on supplementing any more information and most of all; they are reluctant because of Dudley. 

It had been privy to both Vernon and Petunia that Dudley feels envy towards his cousin. It's just that whenever Harry is in the room people would just gravitate around him. He speaks and people listen. He's the best student, athlete, artist and friend that Dudley can't just help but feel inferior in his presence. The couple tried hard to find Dudley's forte, but he just seem to be average on everything and there are limited things that he is interested into and none of them are skill-developing activities. He's not lazy but he just feels like he should be the best if he ever be involved into something. When they were in Kindergarten Petunia had confronted Harry to stop showing-off his skills just to make Dudley appear inferior. She felt so bad about it especially after Harry looked at her with those eyes – he was hurt. Petunia swore that she would never do it. But her Duddykins… 

* * *

Emerald green eyes peeked out from a wavy fringe of black hair. Harry listened as footsteps could be heard heading to his direction. He immediately lowered his hand, but not before getting a pinch of the green powder that was inside one of the decorative urns on the mantelpiece. It's such a curious powder for he could feel a 'magical aura' emanating from it. Whatever it is, he is quite sure that it is an artifact from the Wizarding World that his Aunt Petunia had spoken of in passing before and that the Squib, Mrs. Figg is using it for whatever purpose. 

"Oh, are you feeling cold? I've got some firewood in the shed…" 

"I'm not really cold Mrs. Figg, I'm just curious about your fireplace. I've not really seen a real one before; most people these days use the electric variety." 

"Oh…*chuckle*. Of course but I like the way the firewood crackle as it burn away. It's very reminiscent of my childhood and the days where the watching and tending the fire had been the main entertainment of every winter night." 

Harry gazed at the empty stone fireplace. They have a modern heater system at home eversince he could remember. But Mrs. Figg made it sound like it is one of her fond memories. So is the wizarding world like that? Are their lifestyles really parallel with theirs, the only difference being the magic? He was always tempted to ask his aunt but she is obviously uncomfortable about the subject and he had slowly convinced his self that no such world existed. There are just gifted people and it would be for the best to keep that gift hidden. 

"Here, have some cookies. So anything exciting happen at school lately lad?" 

Just that moment, that simple query made Harry feel that Mrs. Figg is hiding behind some other persona that she could slip into for whatever appearance is necessary. Mrs. Figg on the other hand, did not see any changes in Harry's facial expression. For the entire six almost seven years that she knew Harry, she always thought that the boy is such a detached child. But honestly, she had only seen him interact with others from afar but her observations tell her that it's not different from the way he interacts with her. He isn't talkative, he would only speak when spoken to but when he talks, Mrs. Figg is greatly reminded of prominent Purebloods entertaining guests in a party – he would get your attention to the point that your attention is solely on him and on him alone. 

"The fall term is heading on well. Dudley has this new classmate that transferred from the US, Darren. He's mimicking Darren's accent and vocabulary. *chuckle* It's very amusing especially when Uncle Vernon also practiced the accent, for the 'Florida convention next month' he says. They would Americanize our dinner menu, and then speak like they're Yanks. It annoys Aunt Petunia to no end." 

"Well, how about your archery, I've heard that you qualified for a national competition." 

"Oh yeah." 

Harry continued on to tell Mrs. Figg that a private company had hosted an archery competition for grade-level competitors. Mrs. Figg seems not too interested on the details but she always insists on talking about Harry alone and nothing else. Her questions were so repetitive and scheduled that Harry suspects that Mrs. Figg reports it to someone else. Harry just hopes that it's not the Aunt his Aunt Petunia talked about once. Though Petunia wasn't sure if the 'hag' (as she said it) was still alive for she was quite 'shriveled' the last she saw the woman when she was twenty-four. The 'Hag' was said to be quite abrasive towards Petunia and made Lily her heiress just to spite Petunia. Harry is sure that the 'hag' won't let it pass to be on his good side just to torment his Aunt. 

"It's a good thing that you have good eyesight. I've seen your father before, while visiting the Dursleys. He was just about 23 yet he had glasses." 

"Yeah." 

In Harry's mind, this 'hag' is surely spying for the other 'hag' with all her questions that lead to a common point – she knows his parents well. 

"Aunt Petunia was worried about it so she had me checked every year but the doctor said that my eyesight was completely fine." 

"Oh, that's good." 

"Yeah." 

But Harry's attention was no longer on Mrs. Figg's lame attempt on pretending to know about optometry. His emerald green eyes that were unhindered by glasses were intently staring on the green flames that suddenly emerged from the empty fireplace. Harry held his breath as a face suddenly appeared… 

* * *

"Don't worry Minerva, I'll inform Arabella. She would surely find a way to prevent Harry from wandering into the woods." 

Albus Dumbledore, currently Hogwarts Headmaster was about to throw the floo powder into the fireplace but was unable to do so because of his deputy's incessant questioning. He can't understand why she has to remain silent while they were discussing this issue face to face yet blabber when he's already decided on a course of action. He just shook his head and threw floo powder on the fireplace before shouting 'Mrs. Figg's!' He resumed on a very uncomfortable and awkward position of crouching down the floor. His vision was soon filled with green, turning to his left; he could identify the familiar outline of Arabella Figg's sitting room. There was no one there, he was about to call for the former Ministry pencil-pusher when he felt the sensation of being watched. He sharply turned to his right when he saw something or rather someone. He wasn't able to decipher the person's image but he was sure that it was a child. How could Arabella be so careless? That child could be the one she said to be weeding her garden. He could only hope that the child dismiss the event to be his imaginings gone wild. 

"What's wrong Albus? You immediately pulled off." 

"There was a child on the room." 

"Oh my! Did the Muggle child saw you?" 

"I don't know Minerva, the visibility allowed by the floo powder is limited at a certain distance. I better just send a note. Arabella shouldn't allow Muggles inside the room where there's floo access." 

Minerva McGonagall just nodded her thoughts still on the rogue werewolves that are wrecking havoc on the British Isles. She just hoped that they won't reach Surrey. 

* * *

He is quite sure that Mrs. Figg did not notice the strange occurrence (for him) in the fireplace. She just continued chattering about a cataract operation gone bad. Harry had to keep a tight rein on his emotions or else he'd burst out in excitement any moment. The green powder was for the fireplace! It's for sure. The green powder that's inside his pocket has the same 'feel' as the green flame that suddenly burst in the stone fireplace. Though the green flame felt more potent, more….he can't explain it but it's like the tingling sensation he feels everytime he is near someone or something remotely magical. It's like a mild electric current crawling under his skin and it feels good. He could feel it around Mrs. Figg and his Aunt Petunia but it's faint as if it's just barely there, in Mrs. Figg's case it feels like it's just a remnant of something – what that thing is, he doesn't have any clue. And the old man's face that appeared, Harry could feel something strong emanating from the face. It felt familiar, like the low buzzing around their house but he just can't understand it just now. 

"Oh, it's getting dark. You better be home before your Aunt worries." 

The sun was indeed sunk deep in the horizon. It's a good time to head home so Harry just politely bid the old lady goodbye and led himself out the door. Mrs. Figg's various cats rallied behind him, purring and rubbing on his feet. Mrs. Figg never did had an opportunity to babysit Dudley and Harry but Harry always drops by to investigate the old lady's 'magical cats' as Harry dubbed them. Without noticing it, Harry was on the front door the cats gently pushing his feet past the threshold. 

"Well, er… bye then." 

Harry sheepishly headed to the direction of Privet Drive, burying his chin on the collar of his cotton jumper to dispel the cold autumn breeze and dug his hands on his jean pockets. The thought of the green flames reappeared on Harry's mind. Could it be that the old man was trying to communicate with Mrs. Figg? His Aunt Petunia told him that the Wizarding World was shrouded in secrecy and they have laws that prevent non-magicals from finding about their world. His presence could've deterred the old man – the old wizard. Could it be Mrs. Figg's boyfriend? Harry roughly shook his head to dispel the thought. It's preposterous. He even adamantly denies that Samantha Claude is his girlfriend. Mrs. Figg having a boyfriend? He shook his head once again to rid of the thought once and for all. He should focus on the green powder. If only he could test it on a fireplace. A grin spread across Harry's face as he felt the strange powder on his pocket. 

* * *

**__**

"Incidents of kidnapping had been rampant on the Scottish highlands with the mangled bodies of the kidnapped children found floating in streams and…"

"Pet, are the kids home yet?" 

The news report continued on the background as footsteps could be heard climbing up the staircase. Vernon just settled comfortably on the couch. A lot had changed on the man for the past four years. The once broad frame had now become stout and heavyset but not yet on the overweight category. His moustache was removed, his clean-shaven look complimenting his round and pinkish face. There were a few more wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and there were a few grey hairs showing on his sandy hair. 

**_"Yesterday, there was a report of a very similar incident in the east of_****_Devon where…"_**

"Devon? This can't be the same group." 

"Dudley! Stop playing for a while, your Dad just arrived!" 

There was a sound of the door closing afterwards and then another door opening. 

"Harry, I know that you're awake! Stop pretending to be asleep! We're going to have dinner soon. Wake up!" 

Vernon just smiled and waited for his son to arrive downstairs. If the huge footsteps are any indication, Dudley is quite 'excited' to see him or rather to ask him for something his wife had refused to. He just hoped that if won't be as impossible as the last one. 

"Daddy!" 

"Oohmph! It's nice to see you too, son. How's school?" 

"It's fine Dad. Can I go to a sleep over at Alden's place? He has this new video game that I really want to try on!" 

"When's that? Don't you have an entry for the art show at your school on Wednesday?" 

Dudley looked exasperated as he slumped down on the couch. "But I don't like art." It was said in a near whisper that Vernon strained to hear it properly. Dudley just faced the TV and pretended that he did not say anything. 

"Dad, this game is really cool. It's one of the prototypes. Alden got it from his uncle." 

"If you don't want art because Harry is better, I tell you son it's okay…" 

"No! I don't want art! It's not because of Harry or anybody!" 

Vernon was shocked on Dudley's outburst. It had been a long time since Dudley had one of these outbursts. Even Petunia who was dragging a sleepy Harry down the stairs stopped as she heard Dudley. Her heart was beating in an incredible rate. She had long feared confrontations like this but she also knew that this tension between them had been brewing for far too long. 

"Son…" 

"You always want me to be like Harry. I don't want to be like Harry! I don't like the things he likes! I just want to be like you Dad!" 

Dudley dashed out of the room as fast as his pudgy feet can bring him. Tears were brimming on the boy's dark blue eyes – eyes that are very similar to his father's. Vernon limply dropped on the couch. He never thought that Dudley would think things this way. He never thought that what they believe about their son's feelings were wrong. How could he miss this? For all their efforts on making their son feel better about his self, they inadvertently made him miserable. He never wanted to be like Harry but to be like him – his Dad. Vernon steepled his fingers as he remembered how Dudley want to try out whatever he was doing; fixing the car, fishing and watching the news. He thought that it's just because Dudley was trying to avoid Hadrian. He was so blind. Now how would he fix this mess? 

**"****_Parents are advised to always keep their children…"_**

There was a resounding click as Vernon turned the TV off. All he could see now is his reflection. He stared at his reflection intently as he heard a door banged shut and Petunia trying to coerce Dudley into opening the door. Dudley wants to be like him? But why? He's just old Vernon. What could be something about him that Dudley would want to have more than magic? 


	3. The Look of Conviction

**III. The Look of Conviction**

The days after Dudley's outburst had been difficult for the Dursleys. Dudley was silent and won't talk to anybody. It drove Petunia into tears, not knowing how to appease her son. Harry just let his cousin be. He knew Dudley well enough to know that he just wants to forget everything and trying to make him talk would just make it worse. Vernon seems to also notice this and followed Harry's lead but the days still dragged on a very strained silence on the Dursley household.

"What do you reckon Dude, would Aunt and Uncle allow us to explore when we visit Shrewsbury next weekend?"

"I dunno, Mom's not really comfortable with the old house. She always wants to go home immediately. The trip's too long and nauseating then when we're there we just visit Grandma and Grandpa's grave and leave. I think I won't just go this year."

"Hey, that's no fair! For all I know you will just stuff yourself trick-or-treating while I'm on a train, miserably munching on a homemade toffee but still managing to look dashing and handsome."

Dudley just snorted, fighting down his laughter as he shoved a small piece of chocolate-coated mallows on his mouth. He suddenly lost control and let his laughter out but not before he snorted some of the half-chewed treat.

"Dammit Potter! My nose stings! Now there are bits of nose in my… No that's wrong!"

Harry just burst out laughing in between chews of his own treat. He annoyed Dudley to no end as he offered the pudgy boy some of his caramel puffs while the latter was trying to blow out the bits of mallows on his nose.

"Seriously Harry. We should finish this before we arrive home. Mom would make us eat broccoli the entire week if she sees this."

"You're really gonna eat that still? You're really incorrigible Dude."

"Whatever that means."

Dudley heaved his school bag up as he tried to swallow a handful of mallows. The sign leading to Privet Drive was visible from this distance and No.4 was just a few blocks from the entrance. Harry just chewed slowly with his 'ever dignified' way, mentally patting himself on the back for buying a smaller packet. As he turned to his still stuffing cousin, he was tempted to ask him about what he feels about his parents but he stopped himself. Even if his Aunt Petunia had asked him a couple of times to talk to Dudley about it, he did not tried to do so, not even once for he knows that Dudley would never answer and he does not dream of alienating his cousin.

"What d'ya think, we'll ask Mrs. Figg to babysit you while we're at Shrewsbury?"

"So you can test the magic fireplace?"

"Aw, am I that obvious now Dude?"

"Super. You've been talking 'bout that for days now yada, yada, yadada."

Harry reached out to cover Dudley's mouth which looked easy with Harry's advantage in height but Dudley used his girth to evade his cousin.

"You can't make me stop Potter! Nyaanayamngoguwey"

Harry just looked amused as his cousin walked backwards, facing him and teasingly made funny chewing sounds. He just raised his hands in surrender, making Dudley smirk victoriously.

"She won't invite me in anymore. She always makes excuses. I think that old man really told Mrs. Figg that I saw him."

"So why'd you think that she would let you in this time?"

A sly smirk graced Harry's face as he looked straight at Dudley. "She won't. I would let myself in." There was silence for a while where only the rustling of the treat wrappers could be heard as it was unceremoniously shoved inside a bin at the entrance of Privet Drive.

"I'm screwed right?"

* * *

"Any news Albus?"

"If you mean about the rogue werewolves, then I could say that there's nothing new in that regards Minerva."

"But about Harry?"

Dumbledore just gave McGonagall a sidelong glance before straightening up his spectacles and comfortably leaning on his overstuffed easy chair.

"He seemed very intent on getting inside Arabella's house *chuckle* but Arabella refused him entrance for several times counting this week only."

"Shouldn't we just inform him about the magical world Albus? This is his world after all, it would just be logical to educate him about it."

"You think so?"

McGonagall did not bother answer the question. Dumbledore already knows the answer but this subject seems to bother him for some reason.

"He's not what I expected."

"What have you expected Albus?"

'An abused and broken child maybe?', McGonagall was very tempted to say those very words but she held her tongue though her pursed lips could not hide the consternation she felt towards the headmaster. 'Leaving the savior of the Wizarding World in the doorstep of despicable Muggles indeed!' Dumbledore seem to have read his deputy's thoughts (which she proudly advertised) for he looked at her with a frown.

"I expected that he would look like the exact replica of his father."

"Because he did looked like him when he was baby? Albus, children change appearance a couple times throughout their growth. I thought you knew that. We are in the presence of hundreds of children most of the year afterall."

"It's just strange…"

"I think it would be a relief for Severus. Imagine a James clone strutting on the hallways of Hogwarts. *chuckle*"

The wizened headmaster seems not to find any humor with that statement as he continued to stare at the fire pensively. An abused and broken child, he knows how to handle but an intelligent and self-assured one? He's not quite sure now if he should thank or curse Petunia Dursley.

* * *

"No."

Harry's plan just crumbled into dust as his Aunt refused to entrust Dudley with Mrs. Figg. Ever since Harry mentioned what he 'felt' in Mrs. Figg's presence Petunia seemed to be wary of the old lady. Dudley mentally sighed upon hearing the announcement. There's no way he's staying with that batty lady, magical fireplace or no.

"Dudley will be staying with Aunt Marge."

"Noooooo!"

Petunia and Vernon may have pretended to be despicable in the past to ward off spies from 'the dark side'. It was Lily's plan even before she played an active role in the war – and it was a plan that Petunia willingly participated in. But Marge, her appalling attitude is no act, it's just naturally her.

Dudley frantically looked from his father to his mother. This can't be happening! He doesn't want to clean dog kennels for the Halloween!

"I'm just kidding."

They all burst out laughing except for Dudley who seemed to expect Aunt Marge to suddenly pop into existence and drag him into her smelly dog kennels. This seems to dissipate the tension between Dudley and his parents as he finally joined in the laughter and heartily continued his meal.

"Don't you really want to come dear? I know that it's boring there but it can't be that bad. We're planning to stay the entire weekend there and maybe…"

Petunia was obviously nervous about this entire affair. She would constantly look at Vernon as if asking for reassurance. The two boys shared at look, surprised that Petunia would even think of staying at a house that she seemed not keen on keeping. But it was a good proposition. They had wanted to explore the large estate surrounding the house before but were forbid not to, until now.

"Really Auntie? Are you sure?"

"Y-yes, of course. Why would you think otherwise?"

A ladleful of soup dropped down on Petunia's heirloom tablecloth. Her hands were trembling and it was obvious that she was having a hard time getting hold of her emotions.

"Are you okay Pet? Harry, go get some wash cloth and clean the table. I'll let Petunia rest upstairs."

The two children watched the couple's retreating back and stayed rooted on their spot even after Vernon and Petunia was gone. It was a while when Dudley suddenly stood up.

"I want to know what's happening Har."

"I don't know if you should…"

"I need to know! Mom would never break down like this. Well, not in front of us anyway."

"You go. I'll clean so that Uncle Vernon won't suspect anything when he comes down. Remember be silent."

"I know!"

Dudley tiptoed to up the stairs as fast as he could. He was standing across his room when the door to his parents' room suddenly opened and his father came out, looking harried and weary.

"H-how's Mom?"

"She's gonna be fine, just tired. Do you want to come with us at your Mom's childhood home? It will make your Mom really happy."

Dudley just mutely nodded. How could he refuse? He doesn't want to hurt his mom's emotion after all the pain he caused her. He was about to head to his room when Vernon tugged on his shoulder. "I'm sorry son, for everything." The statement came out choked but Dudley just ignored it. His Dad would never be the one to become emotional – he's manly; he's brave and everything Dudley wished to become. He looked straight at his father's eyes, something he learned from the man. He wanted to show his Dad his conviction, his sincerity. "I'm sorry too Dad." Vernon just smiled and ruffled his son's hair. Somehow, Dudley felt very proud of himself. He's becoming just like his dad.

* * *

"Just tell me where he is! I need to protect him!"

A frail man stood looming above Dumbledore's desk. The old Headmaster seemed unfazed but his grip on his wand never loosened. He just looked straight at the middle-aged man, Remus Lupin a man whom fate had been unkind. His clothes were frayed and inappropriate for the season of the year. His hair was graying much more than what is normal for his age but his eyes, they speak of intense emotions that one would never think this frail man is capable of. And staring upon those amber eyes, Dumbledore need not read the man's thoughts to know that there's no malice in the man's intentions.

"I assure you Remus, Harry is well protected where he is right now. There's no need to worry."

"No need to worry? Albus I heard what the other wolves were saying; Greyback is looking for a perfect cub! He doesn't discriminate! Heck, majority of the children murdered were Muggles! I can't just let him have Harry!"

"Remus…"

"Just tell me!"

"Don't you think that your presence would draw more attention to Harry? He is safe Remus with his blood relatives."

Lupin slammed his fist on the desk. He looked so defeated – so hopeless. The headmaster just watched him as he slowly slumped down on the floor. Even he is surprised on how intense the man's reaction is to the situation. Dumbledore can't blame him. This man lost hope the night of October 31, 1981, when the rest of the Wizarding World gained back theirs.


	4. What To Do

**A/N: I wuv passive voice...**

**IV. What To Do**

Vernon and Petunia hesitantly stood by the doorway of their nephew's bedroom. They seldom enter the children's room ever since the children turned 8. Dudley and Harry are responsible enough to keep their room tidy and they bring their dirty laundry downstairs so that Petunia can have time to rest. They want the boys to have their privacy; but today is an exemption. Petunia had told Vernon that she saw in Harry's possession a vial filled with what undeniably is floo powder. Of course Vernon knows what floo powder is from Petunia's description but where could Harry found some and why would he ever need floo powder? That's why they are now investigating. Petunia is afraid that some magical is influencing their nephew and they want to know in what way they are influencing the child. It's quite a reasonable hypothesis for Vernon. Knowledge is power but it could also mean danger depending on how you use it. So he agreed to investigate with Petunia. He took the day off on the reasoning that they would be preparing for their three-day vacation to Shrewsbury. They waited until the children were at school before they initiated their plan and initiated they did.

"It looks clean."

Indeed, Harry's room was neat and tidy to the point that Vernon is unbelieving that he is in an eight year-old's bedroom. Petunia beamed in pride, at least her obsessive cleaning had rubbed off at least one member of the family. She looked around and observed the detail of the room. The room in general was painted in blues. Harry's bed was in the center, covered in a black and white quilt with a pattern that seemed to be from a page of a Japanese comic. There was a side table at the bed's left side with a constipated-looking plush bear (it's clutching its stomach as if in pain and its face shows it) sitting atop it. There's a light overhead Harry's bed with a series of 4r pictures that look like mugshots of Harry in different angles carrying a sign that read, 'Hadrian Jacques Potter'. Petunia snorted upon seeing the puppy-dog expression on Harry's face on the pictures. There were two multi-purpose shelves flanking each side of the room's sole window. On the shelves were lots of books on different subjects, some pottery that Harry made at school, unframed artworks and a group of action figures that point to their right. Petunia followed the direction to where action figures were pointing to find a life-size action figure made of papier-mâché pointing back at the miniature action figures with a goofy expression on its face. It was then that Petunia noticed a mobile whiteboard obstructing the walk-in wardrobe from view. She remembered that Vernon bought it for Harry the other year but Petunia forgot about it and did not notice it before. Petunia was observing the pieces of paper arranged on the whiteboard with contexts written in black marker when she realized what the illustrations were about.

"Vernon! Take a look at this!"

Vernon sharply turned to Petunia's direction. He was seated by the desk, trying to figure out the computer's password.

"What is it Pet? We shouldn't allow the kids to lock their computer. I forgot that I haven't set parental control over this new unit."

"Vernon! The drawings!"

Vernon reluctantly headed to Petunia's direction and stooped down to the taped illustrations' level. 'Wow' was his only reaction. On the half-left side of the board were detailed illustrations of different people with different colors encompassing the general outline of their bodies. Petunia mouth 'Auras' but these auras seemed different for they show the magical aura of a person. Vernon saw his self with a blue aura, the same with Dudley and two more people including Harry's music teacher and school principal. Petunia was dark-blue while Mrs. Figg was dark-blue with some tiny dots in varying shades of red. There was a fat white cat at Mrs. Figg's feet and it was encompassed with a light yellow aura while the tabby cat beside it was light yellow then deep red. The man they saw on the mall was a lighter red and there was this known local thief with blue and swirling black colors.

"I thought he could just sense them. I never knew he could see it too."

"Either did I Vernon. This is not an average magical talent."

"Look at this diagram here Pet."

Petunia turned to the other side of the board. The illustrations were interconnected by different colored lines drawn using a marker.

"Why is Aunt Mariana included in here?"

"That's her? *chuckle* Look, it's connected to Mrs. Figg. Then there's a context under Mrs. Figg saying spy. She's your aunt's spy?"

"No, it can't be. Aunt Mariana died just a month after Harry was born. But look at this, there's this green powder and fireplace – it's connected to Mrs. Figg. So that's where he got the floo powder."

"And the fireplace is connected to this face of an old man in a green flame with a context that read, boyfriend?"

"That's Dumbledore."

"The Dumbledore? The man who left Harry on our doorstep without even saying hi or hello?"

"The one and only."

"He talked to Harry?"

"I don't think so. The context boyfriend proves that. He thinks that maybe Dumbledore is Mrs. Figg's boyfriend from the wizarding world."

Vernon chuckled at that thought but quieted down at Petunia's worried look. His wife would always be on an emotional rollercoaster everytime they talk about the Wizarding World. Even he cannot tell what he feels about the strange world filled with illogical and improbable things.

"Mrs. Figg is Dumbledore's dummy. He placed her here to watch Harry."

Heavy silence descended on the couple once again. It's very awkward for Vernon and exasperating. He doesn't know what to say or do to comfort his wife. He was never good at this.

"Uhmm…what will we do about it?"

"I don't know Vernon. I don't know. I think it's really time to tell Harry about everything."

"We can just tell him when he arrives from school. We don't need to stay at the manor for the weekend. We could pick up costumes and join the kids trick-or-treating."

"No Vernon. I think I need to face the truth more than Harry does."

* * *

"Do you really think that Mom is okay?"

Dudley was so caught up on his thoughts that he did not notice Samantha Claude join them.

"Huh, what happened to Mrs. Dursley?"

Dudley seems to wake from his stupor and stared blankly at Samantha instead.

"Hi Sam."

Samanthajust rolled her blue eyes and flipped her long blonde at Harry's face.

"Urgh! Death by strawberry shampoo!"

Harry swore he could hear snickers from all around them. It's no secret that Samantha was tailing Harry like a lost puppy since first grade. Harry being bumped up a grade seems to raise Samantha's admiration to hero-worship and she is not alone in that regards.

"So you're no longer pretending that I'm invisible now?"

"Why Sam, I never ignored you!"

Dudley snorted at that and hid his laughter by bowing down and pretending to concentrate on his lunch. That's why he was oblivious to the dirty looks Harry was giving him from across the table. Samantha on the other hand was expectantly waiting for Harry to expound on his explanation.

"It's just; I'm so young for things like commitment!"

"Oh, okay."

Laughter broke down in the room much to Harry's embarrassment but he thought 'At least Dudley is happy now.' He turned to Sam to find the latter looking at him from behind her lashes as she pretended to eat. Harry could swear that he saw a reddish tinge on her cheeks but then he could also feel some heat emanating from his own cheeks but hey, his cheeks had always been rosy; no one would notice the difference. He just straightened up and subconsciously combed his shoulder-length wavy hair with his fingers, making the older girls coo as he is acting like the 'Little Adonis' they dubbed him to be.

"Stop laughing Dude!"

"*laughter* I-I just *laughter* can't help it! It's not even that funny but I can't stop laughing."

Harry just answered him with a glare which made him laugh more. As the laughter died down, Harry initiated a conversation with the still blushing Sam and the flushed Dudley. Everything seemed to be back to normal.

But as Harry was heading back to his classroom after lunch, he noticed someone peeking from behind a tree by the thicket of trees around the greenhouses. He leaned on the wall, the hard edge of his textbook digging on his side. He slowly peeked out into the glass pane, making the fringe of his hair and his green eyes the only part of him visible to someone from the outside. He could make out the form of a savage-looking man with matted hair and strange clothes. The man seems to be observing the children that were still roaming about the grounds. This man's aura shouts of evil with almost purely black tendrils turbulently swirling around his person. Harry could audibly hear the heavy beating of his heart. He could feel danger, eminent danger.

"Hey, Harry have you watched the game last night?"

Harry was suddenly pulled by an arm that casually slung on his shoulders. He turned to see that it was Stephen Callum, a classmate of his.

"Don't tell me that you didn't because you were…"

Muting his friend's chatter, he turned back to see that the man was still on the same spot he last saw him but now the man was looking at a boy Harry knew to be Piers Polkiss. Piers was hiding by a hedge and digging on the ground with his hands. The man slowly moved towards the Piers. The movement was so slow that Harry held his breath as every second ticked by.

"My Dad bought some tickets so that we could watch live."

"Oh! We're going too!"

"So are you going to propose next to Samantha, eh Harry?"

"It was really funny, the look on their faces."

All the conversations seem to be just background noise for Harry as he watched the man getting nearer and nearer but then parts of the field became distorted and suddenly there were figures that appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the man but as fast as they appeared; they suddenly disappeared with the man.

"What was that?"

"Huh? C'mon Harry, we'll be late."

Harry took quick steps towards their classroom, but his gaze still linger on the spot where he last saw the man and to Piers Polkiss who was now scaring some first graders with an earthworm. There's just this nagging thought that won't leave Harry – he just saw something illogical and improbable, something magical.

* * *

"Is it him?"

"No, it's just a Muggle werewolf they dressed in Wizarding clothes. They are scattered around the country, mostly on the outskirts of small Muggle towns. We caught eight just yesterday."

"This is bad."

"That's quite an understatement Auror Smith. This is a coordinated attack. We have an insider tip that Fenrir Greyback is behind all of this. He's looking for the perfect cub. He's no longer content on infecting as much children as he can with lycanthropy; he wants to build an army for reasons only he knows."

The Aurors present shivered at the thought. A werewolf army? But that shouldn't surprise them. The werewolves were poised to join the Dark Lord before the end of the war and the Ministry used this knowledge to oppress them further, even removing their inheritance rights flinging many bitten wizards into a more miserable existence. This had been a long time coming and if they don't do something right, the wizarding world would be facing another war in the face of a more vicious opponent.

Amelia Bones sighed as she leaned on her seat. She had only been on this position as head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for a year and what she thought to be a smooth career is careening on ways she cannot control. 'Well, I should've expected this…' Amelia thought, '…there's no such word as 'smooth' in law enforcement'. She straightened up and ordered the Head Aurors their team assignments. It's a good thing Albus Dumbledore informed her about the information he got from Remus Lupin. She wanted to know more and implant Lupin into one of the werewolf packs as a spy but Dumbledore told her that it won't be possible for the werewolves knew that Lupin sided on the Light during the past war. He was a lone werewolf with loose contacts with other werewolves that share his way of life. Amelia knows that Lupin could live in another pack if he so please but his still mourning the death of the pack that was his family if not in blood. It's a miserable existence indeed.


	5. What Fate Dictates

**V. What Fate Dictates**

Harry tightly clutched the small bottle containing a green powder. His aunt and uncle had been inside his room. He could feel traces of their presence all over his room. He doesn't know what to feel about it. He had often heard his classmates complain about how their siblings invade their personal space and their parents won't allow them to lock their rooms. But here in No. 4, Dudley and Harry enjoy a lot of liberties that Harry is sure other children don't. He also knows that they are quite young to be entrusted such liberties but they were responsible and Petunia and Vernon respect them. Then, why would they come in his room? He could understand his aunt entering and tidying up things or checking if he needs more clothes but what about his uncle?

He walked across his room unto his whiteboard. They were here the longest. He could feel their heavy presence there and the emotions. Harry felt overwhelmed on the sadness he suddenly felt and the worry coming from his uncle's presence.

"Come help your uncle pack the car dear."

Harry sharply turned to the voice's direction. Petunia was leaning by the doorway watching Harry with soft eyes. He could feel the same emotion coming from his Aunt but it's muted somehow.

"You…"

"We'll talk about that when we're settled at the manor. Right now, we should hurry or we would be caught in the traffic."

There was silence for a while. Harry then turned down to the bottle on his hand and then to his aunt. Petunia just nodded at him and half-opened the door before she left to wait for him downstairs. He listened for the gentle patting of feet before he followed downstairs. This would be a very long journey.

* * *

St. Helen's is a village in southern Shrewsbury. It's not a small village so to speak but its population is only 81. The village is composed of vast lands owned by a few well-off families, a factory, modest dwellings by the village center, various shops and a school and church they both share with the nearby government housing project called Spinner's End. St. Helen's is separated from Spinner's End by small stream and an old and dilapidated mill. It was in that mill where a shabby man could be seen, trying to take a nap on rags by the floor.

Remus Lupin had been on the move for a few days now. It had been a wrong move to inform the headmaster about what he had learned. Dumbledore kept digging him for information to 'help the Aurors' he says but the old man did not show any interest or even worry about the safety of his cub. His cub, Harry; he would never allow something bad to happen to him. He had failed him already and that won't happen now. It will never happen. That's why he's now here, waiting for his cub. He knew Lily's childhood home and had even visited it after their graduation when Lily and James were still going out. He expected to find Harry there or Petunia for that matter because he is sure that Dumbledore left Harry to _that_ woman. But he was surprised that Petunia doesn't live there anymore. It's a good thing that the house's gardener still recognized him because if the looks the people he passed by was any judge, he won't be able to fish for any information. The gardener was generous enough to invite him inside and offered him a meal which he gratefully accepted. The old gardener told him that Petunia left the house when she got married and settled down in a suburban town in Surrey called Little Whinging. The entire estate was bequeathed to Lily, Petunia only accepting monetary inheritance upon her request. She doesn't seem keen on living there but when Lily died she took over the handling of the farm but only visits there sporadically. Remus wanted to immediately Apparate to Surrey but the gardener told him that Petunia and her family would be coming in the Halloween to visit the old Evans' graves. He also said that they would come every year without falter, Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and Harry. His heart leaped upon hearing the name of his pack mate's cub. He immediately asked about the boy. The gardener informed him that Harry is quite a fine young man. Every word of praise seemed to bolster Remus' conviction to protect the boy. He would see him on the Halloween and he decided it would be better that way for the full moon is in a few days and the woods in this area is thick enough for him and far from the residential area. Yes, he would wait for his cub to come.

* * *

A jerking motion woke Harry up. It seems like they are pulling up into another gasoline station. He shifted on his seat, watching as Petunia headed for the restroom and Dudley to the station's convenience store. Vernon poked his head from the side of the driver's seat and asked Harry something. Harry couldn't hear from the volume of the music he is listening to with his headphones. But he shook his head, reading every movement of his uncle's lips. He turned to his side and noticed Dudley trying to show him chocolate bars from inside the store. Harry just nodded to whatever Dudley was holding, the imprints on the store's glass pane obscuring his view. They soon loaded up, Dudley throwing up a pink-covered candy bar on Harry's lap.

"What's this?"

"You nodded so I thought that you want that."

Harry just groaned and put the candy on his jacket's pocket. Vernon and Dudley seemed very amused. 'Strawberry coated indeed' Harry thought grumpily. Leaning on his side, he saw the bucolic landscape pass by. It was almost nightfall and they were just halfway there. In the past years he always dreaded this long journey but now, he could feel nervous anticipation for he knows that at the end of this journey he would literally find the answers to his questions. He is sure of it – he could feel the same emotion welling up in his aunt as they are getting nearer and nearer. This is indeed the longest ten hours of his life.

* * *

Leaves rustled as a lean dark man ran towards the wood's edge. He was nearing the dirt road that opened out into a small group of residential houses. Hot on his heels were three men wearing military jackets and plus fours made of strange materials. White capes billowed behind them as they shot red and yellow jets of light to the man.

"I think he's just an ordinary Muggle! He can't run fast enough!"

"Then why can't we get him?! Stupefy!"

"Help! Help! Some strange men are chasing me!"

The three men abruptly stopped by the edge of the woods as the dark man called for the people by the houses.

"It's Mr. Manson's brother. I remember him."

"What's happening? Are you shot?"

A small crowd congregated around the man. Another man soon directed the dark man towards his home just by the road. Blood was trailing at the side of the dark man and the wound looks to be bad. A teenage boy ran towards the village center's direction to call a doctor while the others went back to whatever they were doing.

"I can't understand, the spell glowed red which means that he's a werewolf then it did not…"

"Are you sure that it's red?"

"Of course! I know what red looks like!"

The small blond man was about to pounce on the bigger one when a third person stopped them. They were quite young, about seventeen or eighteen. They're not even six months into the Auror Academy so they can't be officially called Aurors but the shortage on men was very evident just three days after the werewolf attacks started. They are just let into Auror uniforms for appearance purposes but their age is very evident even to the unskilled observant.

"Will you stop? We'll get in there to obliviate the man. If Scrimgeour finds out about this then it's bye-bye Auror career."

"Merlin's balls! Why did it have to come to this? We should've just reductoed that bastard!"

"Let's disillusion ourselves. Wragner would go and open the front door…" The third man pointed to the blond man. "…then I'll circle the house while Moon would stay guard at the backdoor. Okay, ready team."

The three blurred until they blended in the background like some blob of transparent gel. They're not totally invisible for someone observant enough can make out the men's outline. The smallest headed to front door and slowly turned the knob to find that it was open. The other two continued to the backdoor where the biggest of the three remained stationed there as the third man headed to the other side of the house, on the lookout for any escape routes.

Reginald Allen was nervous as he rounded up the corner. The house was so silent – too silent for it to be normal. He was about to peeked at the window to see what's happening inside when he heard the backdoor forcefully slam. Quickly running to the sound's direction, he found out that Andrew Moon was no longer at his spot. His heart was so beating so fast that he felt like his eardrums would burst. With trembling hands he pointed his wand towards the door.

"Alohamo…"

Before he could finish the incantation, the door burst open and a strong hairy hand grabbed him by the throat. Reginald felt like a ragdoll as he was dragged down the floor, his limp body roughly bumping on the scattered furniture. His face was flushed and his ears almost bursting from the pressure of his blood and lack of oxygen. The stage of panic had already worn off and now only instinct keeps him going. There's this voice at the back of his mind telling him that he's going to die but he refuses to accept it. His grip on his wand tightened. 'As long as you have your wand you're as good a wizard as anyone even if you're half-dead.' The voice of Mad-Eye Moody resounded on his head with that mocking tone the retired Auror always use after he totally trash you in a duel. He still has his wand. He can still fight. With every fiber of his being he raised his arm and thought 'Reducto! Reducto! Reducto!'. He was never good in silent casting but he just have to do it once – just once. 'Reducto!' A deep red light erupted from his wand and a sickening crack resounded as the spell hit the arm that held him. He was violently propelled in the air as whoever it is that held him moaned in pain. Reginald painfully hit the corner of some furniture before he dropped down on the floor. He never relinquished his tight grip on his wand.

"Grrr. You stupid whelp! You'll pay for this."

Even before he could catch his breath, he found himself once again being dragged from the roots of his hair and thrown into the wall. He hit something soft and was horrified to find that it was the mangled body of Moon. Half of his face was missing and his throat ripped open. Reginald can't fight back the sob that came out from his mouth. He never thought that he could have a gruesome death but he won't go without a fight. That's for sure. With tears streaking down his face he bravely faced his opponent but what he saw made him tremble in fear. Standing there was a man – no, a beast slowly emerging from the form of a man. His dark skin was replaced by flaking and hairy skin; the man's body was bulking up and the short brown hair was replaced by dark matted hair. As the effects of the Polyjuice Potion totally wore off, there was one word that slipped from Reginald's tongue.

"Greyback."

* * *

**"****_Two men were brutally killed here in the outskirts of Keswick…"_**

"Stop that Muggle woman from reporting this incident and Obliviate her afterwards."

"But Ma'am, she's reporting live!"

"What do you mean?"

Amelia Bones eyed the Muggle contraptions suspiciously. They have just received a Patronus report from one of the Auror Trainees, Reginald Allen that they have encountered Greyback. Allen was barely conscious when they arrived and was surrounded by Muggle police. Some Aurors disillusioned themselves immediately transported Allen to St. Mungo's while the police was confounded. But after that, everything went downhill. Some camera-carrying Muggles came, and took pictures of the area. The Muggles suddenly saw the Disillusioned Aurors through their cameras. Who knew Muggle contraptions could see through the Disillusionment Charm? But it's too late for the Aururs for hell suddenly broke. The Muggles started clicking on their cameras everywhere. The place was soon filled with flashing lights, the police subsequently tried to capture the 'invisible' assailants. There was a stand-off where some Aurors and police were injured but before the Obliviators could do their job the Muggle media arrived and the arrival of other nosy Muggles cannot be controlled from then on.

"Millions of people from the British Isles can see her reporting right now in a contraption they call television! The Statute of Secrecy will be violated!"

"Damn! Contact someone from the Office of Misinformation!"

* * *

**_"Both men were mangled badly. The other man was identified as Bronson Stevens, a local farmer while the other man is still unknown. Identifying marks include a strange costume with a white cape…"_**

Petunia suddenly gasped as she saw the mangled body of Andrew Moon on television. His Auror uniform was torn in some places and stained with blood but it was still distinguishable. That uniform, the last time she saw it...

"Is-is that even human?"

Harry's trembling voice broke Petunia's morbid thoughts. Her eyes widened as she realized that the children were also present. Dudley was hiding on Vernon's side while Harry was staring at the TV screen with wide-eyed disbelief.

"Why do they even show that on TV? Miss, could you please change the channel? There are children watching."

The young woman manning the café's counter reached out for the remote control and started skimming on the channels. For a moment, only the cacophony of sounds from the television could be heard before Harry spoke.

"Were they attacked by wild animals Aunty?"

"Yes-yes Harry. I think there were wolves on that area dear."

It was a blatant lie but the children don't have to know now – or ever if Petunia has something to say about it. She wants to shelter them from the harsh reality as much as she could. As she met Vernon's eyes, she could see the same worry.

"Finish your meal and we'll be off so that we could arrive before midnight."

"Mommy I'm scared."

"Don't worry Duddykins, we won't let you near those beasts. Okay? Are you done with that? Let's go."

* * *

Obliviating a mass of Muggles is quite a tricky business. They won't just wait in line and submit themselves for Obliviation. The moment Amelia Bones cast the first spell on the cameraman, it was pure chaos. Many were horrified, other outraged over the 'evil' forces and yet others scampered away and tried to call for outside interference. That's why two hours after the whole fiasco that is the BBC live report; the Aurors were still chasing Muggles out of hiding. The Muggleborn Auror confunded the news reporter to call the news company and tell that there was some technical difficulties on their side.

It was also a good thing that Madam Bones targeted the cameraman first for just seconds after they realize how dire the situation was, the Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge Apparated in his 'all important' manner just behind the news reporter. It could've been much worst but right now things are much calmer. Well, calmer than before. The Muggle Prime Minister wants facts: the extent of damage, _what caused _such glitch and the likes. Stating the extent, much more the cause of the problem is not as easy as it sounds. Madams Bones never knew that Muggles had a lot of ways to communicate and spread news. And there's this upstart technology called the internet. Even the Americans already know about the fiasco that is the Keswick murders.

Amelia Bones took a deep breath as she waited for the other Aurors to finish rounding-up the Muggles. Daily Prophet's headlines for tomorrow definitely won't be pretty.


	6. The Reason for Prayers

**A/N1: Thanks to the fic's first evah reviewer: Theta-McBride. You're amazing! **

**A/N2: There will be some reminiscing and action-filled scenes. But don't ya' worry guys, blanks and stunt doubles were used during the conception of this chapter so no fictional characters were harmed. **

**A/N3: Are my updates too soon? (But I've got nothing else to do!) Please feel free to comment and review. **

**VI. The Reason for Prayers**

"Urghh! My back hurts. The kids are getting heavy especially Dudley! I'm really getting old."

There was silence. Petunia just stood by the rosette window, watching as the rain splatter unto the stone pavement down below. Sensing the solemn mood, Vernon just stood and walked towards his wife and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before heading to their room. Petunia did not even acknowledged Vernon and just stood there, her thoughts lost in the past.

_"Why would you suffer a mundane life just for your Squib daughter? She's nine now. Just leave her here with a Muggle attendant and go back to your home – to your life. Why are you doing this to yourself Rose?"_

_"Mari, you don't understand – you'll never understand. Petunia's our daughter we can't leave her alone. And she's so sickly. She can't even go out of the house without getting sick…"_

_"I'll take Lily."_

_"What?! Who are you to decide for my family?"_

_Petunia's view was obstructed as her father stood, his shoulders shaking in obvious rage. Her mother immediately stood by her father's side to appease him but his father would have none of it._

_"You don't have a right to my child…"_

_"Oh really Alfonse? You've been in the Wizengamot long enough to know how gullible the other members are. I'll talk to some of my old friends in the Wizengamot into supporting a bill wherein Pureblood children should be raised the traditional way in a magical household…"_

_"No one would support that bullshit! I have the right to raise my children the way I deem appropriate!"_

_"We have the numbers Alfonse and you have no right to object after you left our world just for...for this!"_

_"You can't do this Mariana! Why would you even deliberately…"_

_Petunia wasn't able to hear the rest of her mother's pleas. Her knees gave out and she dropped on the floor, her curly blonde hair fanning out her thin face as she curled up in a fetal position and cried. They would be taking Lily away, all because of her._

Petunia can't help but tear-up at the memory. That's how she spent the rest of the night, in torturous remembrance of the past as the rain lulled the rest of the house's occupants into deep slumber.

* * *

Harry could feel it; the pain and misery. He could just will it to go away but what bothers him is that all those emotions were coming from his Aunt Petunia. It could be that strong for him to still feel it rooms away from his aunt. Coming to a decision, he slowly descended from the bed but he suddenly realized that the bed was much bigger than the bed he regularly sleeps on while visiting the Evans Manor. It was queen sized with deep blue covers and hangings with gold trimmings. Harry scrambled down to find his feet stepping on a Persian rug. It was a big room but was almost bare. Turning to his back, he saw a nightstand with various framed pictures. He squinted in the dark to make out the faces when his gaze came upon a familiar face.

"Mom…"

There were more pictures of his mom from her childhood and then when she was a teenager together with some girls that were probably her friends but what caught his attention was a picture of his mom with five men and a woman taken at what he believed to be the manor's citrus orchard. One of the men was holding his mom's hand – it was his father, James Potter but what surprised him was when the picture moved. His father was laughing while the other black haired man and the stout brown-haired man were waving sticks in the air and limes floated all around them in wobbly patterns. The scene then ended and returned to its unmoving state and moved again in an unending cycle.

Strange emotions suddenly welled up from deep within him. He had seen their pictures before; he actually has a photo album full of their pictures but he always felt like…like they never really existed before. But now, this was his mom's room. Aunt Petunia never allowed them on the main rooms before. He and Dudley would always dare each other to sneak up on one of the rooms but now that he is in one, even slept on it and he felt somewhat restless. He gazed at the door for a long time, feeling waves of anxiety that he unknowingly absorbed from his aunt, he sprinted straight to the door and hurriedly left the room with tears on his eyes.

* * *

That's the scene that confronted Petunia as she was helping the housemaid prepare breakfast. Harry came barreling into the kitchen with his tear streaked face and sweat-soaked pajamas. He was bawling like a little child, hiccupping as he tried to say something. Petunia had last seen him like this when he was just two when nightmares plague him almost every night.

"What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"

Petunia tried to engulf him in a hug but he just slapped Petunia's arms away, backing away as he did so. He looked to be on the verge of a tantrum, his eyes darkening as it pinned Petunia with an accusing look.

"What's wrong Harry I can't understand what you are saying! Please calm down. Calm down. I'm sorry, what did I do? Aunty is really sorry."

Petunia stooped down and slowly approached Harry. She could see the telltale sign of accidental magic as an invisible wind swirled around Harry and his aura was visible and flashing in different colors at a very fast rate.

"Pet, what's wrong?"

Vernon hurriedly strode to their direction. He was still wearing yesterday's clothes and his hair was tousled from sleep. Dudley was hot on his heels.

"Don't, don't come near Vernon. Harry's having accidental magic."

Electricity crackled in the air and the hairs on their skin stood on end. Vernon's eyes widen at the realization of what is happening. He leaned by the doorway of the dining room, pulling a trembling Dudley with him.

"Harry!"

"No! No!"

"Harry please! Please tell Aunty what's wrong?!"

The wind built up speed but it seems not to touch anything except for Harry's clothes. They braced themselves as the storm seem to reach its breaking point but no explosion came it only remained at this state as Harry shouted himself hoarse.

"I don't want there! I don't want to sleep there! I-I don't want to see them!"

Petunia's eyes widen in realization. She thought that placing Harry in his mother's room would ease up his acceptance of the Wizarding World. Petunia is no fool. She knows that Harry is curious about magic but he was always aloof when talking about his parents and their lives in the Wizarding World.

"B-but they're your parents Harry. Don't you miss them? Don't you want to know about them?"

"No! No!"

"Harry…"

"They're dead! They're not my parents anymore! You're my mom now. You just want to get rid of me because you hate me!"

"Harry no. I don't hate you. I never hated you. I love you Harry."

Petunia was now in tears as kneeled down, trying to bridge the gap between her and Harry but the wind was throwing her away every time she attempts to get near. As she reached out her arm, the wind's pressure cut down on the surface of her skin; blood droplets were distorted according to the wind current's direction. Upon seeing this, Harry trembled in fear. The storm slowly dissolved and was replaced by water droplets that came from nowhere, pattering down into the floor; soaking both Harry and Petunia. Harry took a step towards Petunia and gazed at her downed figure but made no move to go nearer.

"Yes you hate me. Mrs. Figg told me that you hate Mom because she was special and now…you want me to go…"

Harry's voice was so soft and pained. Petunia could remember that tone very well. It was when Harry came home from kindergarten crying because some bigger boys bullied him and he doesn't know what he did wrong. She remembers it clearly, the way she remembers every bruise, every scrape and every tear Harry had growing up. Yes, she had been Harry's mother all these years but she knows that Harry is not hers and can never be hers.

"Harry, I just want you to know who you are…I just want you to learn magic, they way your mom and dad did. You belong there Harry and I can't keep you from your destiny. I would be happy seeing you happy…"

"B-but I know magic. I-I can learn on my own. I'm learning Aunty! I am!"

Harry fumbled for anything to show his aunt that he can do magic but nothing came. Fat tears just started rolling down his cheeks as he pulled on his clothes in despair.

"Harry, I'm not sending you away. I'm not. I just want you to be prepared on the world that you should've have been all along. Harry…"

"No! I can't leave you!"

That statement seems to hit something from inside Petunia and she started to sob. Vernon rushed to be on Petunia's side but the water seems to stop him as the shallow pool began to swell into a whirlpool.

_"Petunia's our daughter we can't leave her alone."_

"No,no. Just forget about me Harry. I'm a Squib! I can never be a part of your world! I can never be a part of your life! Just forget about me like everyone in that world. Just forget about me… It would cause me more pain…do this for me. Just tell me that you want magic. That you are no longer content on your mundane life, just tell me Harry."

_"Papa, why can't I go see Aunt Mariana's magic house?"_

_Her father suddenly pulled out something that Petunia never saw on his person before. It was a stick with strange markings on the handle. Her father pointed the stick to Lily and incanted, "Obliviate." She never did saw the stick again and Lily seemed not to remember anything about Aunt Mariana and the magic that she had just done._

"Aunty no. I'm happy. Just don't talk about magic anymore…"

Harry suddenly turned on his heels and sprinted out of the room. Vernon tried to catch him but he just wiggled out of the way. He forcefully ripped the patio door open and ran into the early morning light. Ignoring the crisp morning air and the cold, dew-filled grass under his feet, Harry blindly ran towards the woods. He was just half-way there when a blur suddenly collided on his side and pinned him down to the ground. He panicked as he felt a strong hand on his throat. He tried to pry away the hand but both his hands could barely wrap around the hairy arm.

"Hello there. I finally found you, my cub!"

"Harry!"

"Get off him you beast!"

Harry turned to the voice's direction and could see a blurry visage of a bloody man. He could hear other voices from the background but they were all muffled as his eardrums were blaring with the sound of his own heartbeat. Suddenly, he could feel a strange sensation; he felt like being sucked into a very tight space. It caused him more pain than ever. He tried to force all his energy to make the sensation stop but it seem to agitate the man that was holding him down. There was a ripping sound coming from the back of the man. A terrifying growl followed and then a couple of terrified shouts. The man hauled Harry up and motioned to rip his shoulder but a strong blow from behind them propelled Harry and the man in different directions.

"Greyback!"

Some growling and violent ripping sounds ensued coupled with a few gunshots before popping sounds could be heard blending with Petunia's shout of "Vernon stop shooting!" that was what Harry last heard as he finally lost consciousness with his head resting on a growing pool of blood.

* * *

Disaster to another disaster seemed to happen to Amelia Bones these days. And why does it have to be the 'Boy-Who-Lived'? But of course, it would be him. They should've had thought of it the moment they heard the words 'perfect cub'. Who else would be perfect enough than the defeater of the darkest wizard of the century? They should've put preemptive measures.

'But enough of that thought' Amelia Bones breathlessly reached her office with the draft of the incident's report. The Daily Prophet had been a pain in the ass as they printed a late night edition just for the 'Keswick Fiasco' and now they were on a field day trying to redo the headlines of the morning edition to something about the attack on the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. If she could just curse one of those reporters to oblivion! Amelia just huffed and roughly dropped down on her seat, rubbing her face with her hands. It could've have gone worst. It's a good thing Greyback wasn't able to Apparate the boy away. 'Maybe Greyback was too weak' but there's another nagging thought on Amelia's mind about the matter. She was trying to figure it out when her secretary came barging in with no other than Albus Dumbledore.

"Ma'am I…"

"It's okay Elise."

"Amelia, I've been looking for you at St. Mungo's…"

"Yes Headmaster, I was there but I came back to file the reports. What can I do for you? It's been a long night and I have a report to finish."

"It's okay Amelia. I just want to know the details."

Amelia was annoyed at how Dumbledore just brushed away her obvious dismissal. But she just can't blast the old man out of her office; it would be another major disaster. So she started to drone on, the same way she when giving a class report years ago.

"After Greyback escaped last night, he managed to flee in an area around Liverpool. I was informed that the Dursleys together with young Mr. Potter arrived at the Evans Manor in Shrewsbury at roughly around midnight to spend an entire weekend there. Apparently Mr. Potter felt some discomfort and woke up at 4:30 in the morning. His Uncle told us that he was restless about being unknowingly placed on his mother's old bedroom while he was asleep…"

Dumbledore frowned at this information. Why would Harry feel that way? Won't he be eager to find something that was once his mother's? Confusion was clear on Dumbledore's face but he nodded for Amelia to continue. Unbeknownst to him, Amelia was actually studying his reaction. She is quite sure that whether he is involved in the situation or not, Dumbledore would surely stick his hands on anything regarding the Boy-Who-Lived.

"This triggered a huge magical explosion from the boy. The Department of Underage Magic Control confirmed that their sensors activated at around 4:35 and pointed the manor as the center of the explosion but due to the hour, no Ministry employee was sent. Mr. Dursley then reported that after an altercation with his aunt, Mr. Potter ran out the manor out into the woods. His cousin ran after him but before Mr. Potter could reach the edge of the woods, Greyback appeared and pinned him down. At this time Mr. Dursley was also out and so is one of the manor's caretakers…"

Amelia seemed to be lost in thought for a while. She noted not to underestimate muggle contraptions – ever again. Greyback's body was a proof to that. Mr. Dursley and the muggle caretaker peppered the werewolf with a lot of bullets that he looked like a practice dummy afterwards or rather, what remained of him after Remus Lupin mangled and maimed his body.

"It seems that Greyback sensed the powerful magical discharge and Apparated straight into the area. Greyback attempted to Disapparate after he pinned the boy but he was unable to and was splinched on the back. He then attempted to bite Mr. Potter…" Amelia involuntarily shivered at the thought. Lycanthropy is not an easy condition to have after all. "…but Mr. Remus Lupin arrived and mauled Greyback. Mr. Potter was thrown into the pavement and hit his head. It was also at this time that the Muggle caretaker returned with a gun in hand and handed it to Mr. Dursley who started shooting at the two battling werewolves. Mr. Lupin was already winning at that time but he was shot on his side. A wounded Mrs. Dursley arrived and upon recognizing Mr. Lupin, ordered her husband to stop shooting. This gave Greyback an opportunity to strike back and ripped Mr. Lupin's chest. But the Muggle caretaker, apparently also procured himself a gun, started relentlessly shooting Greyback. Mr. Dursley soon followed suit until Greyback dropped down dead. As you have already discovered, Mr. Potter, Lupin and Mrs. Dursley is at St. Mungo's. All household members of the Evans Manor need not Obliviated for they were aware of the Wizarding World but Mr. Dursley did ask for his son to be Obliviated."

Amelia sighed as she ended her tale. Dumbledore seemed to mull the information over. There are still things that still don't add up but some things are clear to Amelia Bones: one, Dumbledore seem to have no control _yet,_ of the boy and his family; two, that Remus Lupin apparently acted on his own volition and searched for the whereabouts of the elusive Boy-Who-Lived in attempt to protect the boy and lastly, Harry Potter is one powerful wizard.

"Do you need anything else Headmaster?"


	7. What You Don't Know

**VII. What You Don't Know**

If you are influential enough, there are a lot of ways you can find out the news even before it goes into print. Lucius Malfoy is surely influential enough and takes advantage of this leverage with utmost gusto. That's why he was up and about inside his home office at 6:00 in the morning, rummaging through his father's old files cursing the deceased man for warding his files against any form of magic. It was at this state that his wife Narcissa found him, standing by knee-length stacks of parchment.

"Lucius?"

Lucius just grunted in response. It wasn't before he heard the sharp tapping of Narcissa's heels that he emerged from the safe and faced his wife. That woman cannot stand being ignored and anyone who does would pay in painful ways.

"I'm looking for the Magical Upbringing bill that father tried to pass in the Wizengamot more than two decades ago."

"Why so? I'm not familiar with that bill. What is it about?"

Narcissa primly seated herself on one of the chairs in front of Lucius' desk. It was a long moment before Lucius once again re-emerged from the safe.

"I need it for the Wizengamot session this Wednesday. It's very timely actually *chuckle*. I can finally get back on the Muggle-loving fool. This would serve him right!"

At the questioning look on his wife's face, Lucius expounded.

"It was a bill specifically targeting one person at that time. This Pureblood child was raised as a Muggle by her parents in favor of their Squib daughter. The child was obviously miserable and the aunt wanted to right the wrong made by her sister and brother-in-law. She asked for help from my father and their circle of elite Purebloods to pass this bill, banning the raising of Pureblood children in a non-magical environment…"

"It was Dumbledore wasn't it? He stopped the bill from being passed?"

Lucius gritted his teeth and seem to glare at something invisible in the air before he answered.

"It's more than that dear."

"So why bring it up now?"

"It's just about the right time."

* * *

Vernon watched as Dudley soundly slept. Mario and the other men from the farm had helped clean up the blood on the lawn and pavement. He could still feel his son's fear as he saw _that beast_ attack Harry. He was trembling. Things just happened too fast that Vernon was still peeved from it all. It's a good thing when the magical police asked him if he wants his memory of the event erased. He doesn't need to forget, he needs to remember everything no matter how gruesome it is, for him to prevent it from happening ever again. But Dudley, he's too young to see things like that. Dudley won't be sleeping this sound if he didn't let the magical police wipe his son's memory clean. He now believed that Harry slipped on the pavement after he ran outside. They left the part about Harry's accidental magic intact. Dudley needs to understand that part of the truth. Vernon sighed and closed the door behind him as he headed to the hallway leading to the stairs. Some magical polices will be waiting for him downstairs to take him to the magical hospital where Harry and Petunia was brought. He is still apprehensive about stepping inside a magical edifice but he needs the assurance that the two were fine. He needs it, for his own peace of mind.

* * *

The breakfast at Hogwarts haven't even started when the Daily Prophet's post owls started delivering today's newspaper. Cries of outrage could be heard on many wizarding households. Even admittedly dark families had something vile to say about the deceased werewolf. So it was only prudent to see the staff of Hogwarts in different stages of horror, rage and pity as they read the day's headlines.

**BOY-WHO-LIVED ATTACKED BY FENRIR GREYBACK!**

The article related the events of early this morning with detailed scrutiny on how the Boy-Who-Lived was helpless in the face of an attack contrary to the assurances of Albus Dumbledore that the Wizarding World's savior was safe and well-protected. The DMLE was also scrutinized after one of the Head Aurors disclosed that the department knows of Greyback's motives. But the newspaper did mentioned Remus Lupin's heroic action if not to dispel the notion that Greyback was killed by Muggle means.

The Great Hall was filled with noisy chatter about the same topic. Some Slytherins were sneering upon reading that the Boy-Who-Lived was placed in the care of Muggles. Other students were giving the Headmaster's empty seat surreptitious looks and whispered at each other with disbelief clearly written on their faces. Even the staff was engaged in a heated discussion with the exemption of one Severus Snape. His expression was unreadable as he gazed at a copy of the Daily Prophet laid on top of Filius Flitwick's forgotten breakfast. His gaze was especially drawn on the Muggle photo of Harry, his wavy hair framing his face as his lips was drawn into a small smile with eyes sparkling in merriment – Lily's eyes.

If you ask someone what they think Snape's reaction be on the incident, they would most probably say loathing, but they did not see the pained look the Potions Master had as he averted his gaze from the photo and continued his meal. They wouldn't see it, even if they wanted to as Severus Snape once again sneered as his name was being called.

* * *

St. Mungo's wasn't doing any better. They were being bombarded by people wanting to see the Boy-Who-Lived. They were quite relentless and in some point persuading but the boy wasn't even awake yet and his room was heavily guarded by Hit Wizards. Petunia wanted to stay and guard Harry but her discomfort on the magical edifice was obvious and Amelia assured her that Harry will be well-taken care of. So Petunia and Vernon reluctantly left the hospital to be notified when Harry was finally awake.

That's just the reason why the Mediwitch Clara Delfin was scurrying on the hallway, pushing a cart laden with freshly brewed Restorative Draught, Anti-Inflammatory Potion and Blood-Replenishing Potion. The Boy-Who-Lived apparently suffered from concussion and the side of his head was cut from when he was propelled in the air. The Restorative Draught was for the boy's magical exhaustion after he was said to have prevented Greyback from Apparating. Clara shook her head, still unbelieving but the Ministry of Magic itself confirmed that the boy had a huge magical explosion just a moment before Greyback's attack. Just how powerful the boy has to be to be able to pull out those magical feats? Arriving across the boy's room, the Hit Wizards scanned her and the vials she brought with her. It was such an unnerving feeling, being probed with a jolt of elakstritity as what the Muggles call it. But it was a standard procedure to ensure that the Wizarding World's savior won't be attacked again and plunge the Ministry into another embarrassment.

"I have warned Petunia before not to remove Harry away from scope of the wards or his safety would be compromised."

Clara steered clear from Dumbledore and the Minister as the two awkwardly discussed the issue at hand. The Minister seemed not inclined on standing near the Headmaster and the Headmaster looked somewhat annoyed on the Minister. The two Healers present were clearly not appreciating their presence but how could you subtly tell two politically influential men to get lost?

"Here are the potions Healer Atkins."

The Healer just nodded and signaled Clara to place the cart at the corner as they scanned the boy's vitals. As she stood there, Clara can't help but overhear the Headmaster and Minister's conversation.

"And what could have angered the boy to trigger such accidental magic? Those despicable Muggles!"

"Now, Cornelius there's no need judge them before we know the whole truth. We won't know until the boy in question awakes."

Just then, a lean young man came in carrying a note for the Minister. The Minister immediately excused himself after reading the missive, leaving Dumbledore standing there alone; his gaze never leaving the bandaged head of the Boy-Who-Lived.

"How is he?"

Dumbledore inclined his head, addressing the two Healers.

"He's healing quite quickly…well."

The two Healers shared a look. Healer Atkins, a tall middle-aged man gave Dumbledore a penetrating gaze as the other healer, a lean man with sharp features just stood there and watched on. Dumbledore moved closer until he was leaning on the bed's headboard.

"What is it?"

The Healer hesitated for a while before continuing. "He's healing quite too fast to be normal. Actually his wound and concussion was already healed. He also no longer needs any blood replenishing potion. His core…"

"Tell me Healer Atkins."

"His core is actually back to its normal levels but it is not channeling any magic right now. It's as if it's sleeping and the only magic it is releasing is just enough to bolster his life-force thus, enabling the fast healing."

"But there's more to it?"

Dumbledore hoped that there weren't any. He's quite sure that he put a block on the boy's magic before he placed him at the Dursleys. He's sure for _he _was the one who put it there. So the boy couldn't be that powerful already.

"His core is still responding to the Restorative Draught which means that his reserves are still building up. We aren't sure when it will be full so we can't tell when he will wake."

"Have you checked his scar?"

Dumbledore suddenly pushed the boy's fringe from the famous lightning bolt scar. The Healers shared another look. What is Dumbledore up to this time? Dumbledore himself had assured the Healers seven years ago that the boy's scar has no lingering magical residue; he even forbid them from examining the said scar, then why is his tone short of asking them to tinker on it?

"You better do. I think it is affecting his magic somehow. I've better go. I have a school to run after all."

Dumbledore nodded to all three medical personnel before leaving the room in a sedate state. Healer Atkins can't help but look down and touch the lightning bolt scar.

"What was that?" Clara can't help but blurt out the first thing that came to mind. The two healers seemed as confused as her but the other healer, Healer Kramer whispered something that only he heard.

"The answer to the almost decade-long mystery."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy twirled his walking cane like a baton as he left the Daily Prophet offices. The newspaper would be busy printing 'interesting' materials for the following days according to his 'tips'. This would surely stir up things in the Ministry so he should warn the lump that is the Minister for Magic before the latter go all ballistic on him. Everything's playing out as planned. All he needed to do now is iron some small wrinkles that can hinder him on the way. His sly smirk only broadened as he Apparated to the Ministry of Magic. He never had this so much fun since… well, ever.

* * *

The International Confederation of Wizards had an emergency meeting in lieu to the recent breach to the Statute of Secrecy. Dumbledore attended as the Supreme Mugwump. He was glad that the meeting was held Paris, avoiding any time discrepancy difficulties and his body clock is slow to adapt especially now that he is getting older and his role as Headmaster obliges him to be awake from daybreak until late in the night. He briskly entered the huge chamber where the meeting was being held and waited for everyone to arrive. It was expected that some of the delegates would be late; others may not even be able to come with such a short notice. He politely nodded at the delegates present and sat down on his seat. This will be a very long meeting. It's a good thing that the stand-off between the Aurors and the Muggle police was not caught on tape and the only thing shown on television was the one where the Aurors were trying to retrieve the body of Andrew Moon. This could've gone worse but there's no real harm done after all; the Muggles don't know what an Auror is and even if the Auror uniform is flashed a hundred times on television they're none the wiser. The problem is the residents of Keswick and their attempt to spread what they have seen. The Office of Misinformation is working overtime just to prove that the incident was just a case of mass hysteria. Dumbledore was suddenly disturbed from his musings when a young clerk came in the room and started distributing bound copies of what seem to be Muggle newspapers. The clerk levitated a copy each to the still unoccupied seats and then finally stopped infront of Dumbledore. Dumbledore gratefully accepted the paper and what he read there made him really nervous.

**WAND-CARRYING INDIVIDUALS SPOTTED IN KESWICK!**

It was an article from a local newspaper in London. At the center of the article was a photo of a young Auror levitating the body of Andrew Moon. Dumbledore shuffled the pages to find a publication centering on paranormal phenomenon. The publication printed a series of photos showing the Minister for Magic Apparating on a then empty space behind a news reporter. Another photo was of the two Aurors Disapparating with Moon's body.

**WIZARDS RESPONSIBLE FOR VIOLENT KILLINGS?**

This article was worse than the others. This was from a national-circulating newspaper and depicted a thorough assessment of the incident. There are eye-witness reports, reports from the police station explaining how the police who responded to the crime scene called for back-ups after they were faced with numerous uniformed wand-carrying individuals but when the back-ups came the previous police's doesn't even know what they were doing there and denied the distress call. Then there were photos taken by locals… the details goes on and on. Dumbledore had to put the newspaper down to calm his nerves. He did not even notice that the chamber is almost full and that the international delegates were discussing the event with much fervor.

"We were fighting alongside Muggles during World War II and we were never caught once!"

"What were those Aurors doing inside that Muggle house in the first place?"

"They should've got the body then Apparated out when the Muggles came. It's protocol after all!"

Dumbledore, unaware of the discussions going around him continued skimming on the headlines: **KESWICK LOCALS CHASED BY WIZARDS WITH STUNNING RED LIGHT**; **KESWICK RESIDENTS MEMORY WIPE-OUT! **But the most troubling for Dumbledore was the headlines that read, **PRIME MINISTER SECURITY DETAIL A WIZARD? **Then below was a picture of Kingsley Shackebolt standing on guard beside the Minister for Magic. This won't be good. Dumbledore just hoped that the Muggle Prime Minister is not into reading dodgy tabloids. He could but just hope.


	8. What We Never Asked for

**VIII. What We Never Asked for**

He can't see anything. There was just darkness, overwhelming silence and then he heard one whisper, answered by another but it he can't decipher what's being said. He tried to turn to his side but his body seemed to be nothing but a part of this void. He heard another sound, this time of wheels being maneuvered around the floor. He listened once more and started to have vague images of the source of the sounds. He now learned that he was in a closed room with two men standing by the doorway. There were carts passing by the room from time to time. He could be in a hospital. He felt safer upon this realization and settled on listening to the sounds once again knowing well that he would awaken when everything becomes clear on his mind. But soon waves of emotions came flooding his senses. Worry, fear, pain, happiness came in overwhelming speed that Harry wished for him to feel and hear no more. His body started to ache with the exertion as he resisted any oncoming stimulus. As fast as it came, everything stopped. There was nothing but deafening silence and pitch-black darkness. Then Harry felt like falling deeper and deeper into darkness until he knew no more.

* * *

His most anticipated day had come at last. It's Wednesday. Lucius Malfoy huffed as his wife straightened up the collar of his shirt. He won't gush like a little child over such a trivial matter. Things would go the way he wants to because he is in control. And today he will show all those Mugglelovers how in control he is. It's time to play real politics and not the game of classroom supremacy. He deftly slipped into his plum-colored Wizengamot robes and looked at his self in the mirror for the last time. His expression turned into one of satisfaction as he caught glimpse of today's headlines.

**DUMBLEDORE USED ILLEGAL RITUAL**

_After studying the nature of the alleged protections around the Boy-Who-Lived's Muggle residence, a Master Warder (whose identity cannot be divulged for security purposes) was surprised that an ancient and highly illegal form Blood Magic was employed by no other Albus Dumbledore. The Magical Signature…_

"You'll be late."

Lucius looked annoyed as Narcissa sharply seized the paper from his hands. She has that look that Lucius knows too well – she wants to know everything. But Lucius isn't going to indulge her today. He did not even turn to say goodbye to his wife. He headed to a walk-in closet and pushed aside some winter cloaks. He stepped inside the closet and touched the wall using his right hand. The wall immediately retracted and on its place was an alcove. As the alcove appeared, yellow light surrounded the dark closet except for a spot on alcove's floor. Lucius stepped on that spot and soon disappeared with a soft pop. 

* * *

The Ministry of Magic's atrium was as busy as ever. Employees and visitors alike were continually arriving from the various fireplaces but instead of milling about and gossiping, Ministry employees could be seen hurrying to their offices with a sidelong glance at the eight ICW inspectors that were observing the reliability of the Ministry's Floo system.

Lucius Malfoy nodded at one of the inspectors as a way of greeting and briskly headed to the Wizengamot's meeting room. A smirk seemed to be permanently plastered on his face. He likes it when people gets off-balance and the Ministry is very off-balance right now. The entire British wizarding society is banned from hosting any public events which include Apparating and casting any spells on a Muggle area, flying on brooms as a mode of transportation and even the introduction of Muggleborns into the Wizarding World is also under the scrutiny of the ICW governing body. They deemed the British Ministry of Magic unreliable and ill-prepared in instituting the Statute of Secrecy. Even Platform 9 ¾ is experiencing quite a criticism right now. Just thinking of the five years without professional Quidditch, open-air camping and pranking Muggles made many sick to the bones. And of course, who would forget the five million galleons worth of penalty that was taken from the Ministry coffers? That just made Fudge's day. Lucius just chuckled and surreptitiously nodded at his allies as he swept inside the session hall and took his usual seat. He would just be a good boy for a while and wait for his turn to a make scene.

* * *

Dumbledore is quite surprised to find that the Wizengamot is in quorum today. It is a well-known fact that of the 54 active seats in the Wizengamot, almost half of it are the so-called "Blue Moon Voters". They would only attend whenever one of their allies had a bill to pass and today's session could be no different. He tried to identify each of the faces in attendance. It won't bode well to have a nuisance bill pass during this tension in the Ministry. The old McKinnon was in attendance. 'Never knew he was still alive', thought Dumbledore. So is Rosian Mulciber, Agatha Vance and Calliope Caldwell. Dumbledore singled them out for they all haven't attended even one session for the past ten years and they don't have any known alliances, so why attend now? Dumbledore is feeling nervous about this.

"The eight thousand seven hundred eighty fourth session of the Wizengamot has officially started any motions you want to discuss in front of the body before we discuss today's agenda?"

The moment Lucius Malfoy stood; Dumbledore knew that nothing good will come out of it. It could be another plot to slander him. But he schooled his face into a look of neutrality as what his position of Supreme Mugwump is supposed to represent. The presence of the ICW inspectors also helped a lot in that regards.

"I Lucius Malfoy, the Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy motion for the reconsideration of the Magical Upbringing Bill co-authored by my late father in the year 1963 but was thereby abolished by this body."

There were confused murmuring in the gallery. Many of the present don't even recall ever hearing such a bill being brought up in the Wizengamot. Even Dumbledore was having doubts.

"Please state your case Mr. Malfoy. Why would the Wizengamot reconsider the bill if the majority of the body so voted against it in the first place?"

"This bill proposes the banning of raising Pureblood children in a non-magical environment which includes parameters such as the parents living as Muggles, living in a Muggle house or community and lastly, leaving a Pureblood child in the care of Muggles."

As Lucius said this, his gaze never left that of Dumbledore. This left those who understood the implied meaning of Malfoy's actions confused; even Dumbledore doesn't know where this argument is heading. But suddenly someone voiced the one thought that is bothering everybody.

"But Harry Potter isn't a Pureblood."

"Is he not?"

Lucius' answer only intrigued everyone further. The prospect was enticing for almost everyone. It's no secret that the Wizengamot is a governing body 'for the pure'. They may have accepted that their savior was a Half-blood but no one would want a marriage contract drafted for him by the old Pureblood families. Blood is very important for them that sometimes it's the only thing that matters.

"Let me tell you the very reason why this bill had been created in the first place. Do any of you know Mariana Gertrude Edmonds?"

Almost everyone nodded, especially the elder ones. Mariana is after all the former Regent of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Edmonds, an old Irish wizarding family. No one had taken the family's seat since Mariana's death eight years ago and the family is thought to have died out.

"Mariana was in the same year with my mother in Beauxbaton. They were such good friends and allies that when she took the role of Regent, she immediately joined my father's alliance. So it was no surprise when she came to my father and asked to support this certain bill she had created. What use is this bill for her you ask? You see, Mariana's only sister, Rose Isabelle married a Pureblood that was quite disenchanted with our society. His name was Alfonse Rosier."

Murmurs erupted upon the mention of that name. Alfonse Rosier was once a well-known diplomat. He led the neutral faction of the Wizengamot at the age of 25 upon inheriting quite a fortune from both his parents and great uncle. But when he was 36, he suddenly disappeared in the socio-political scene.

"Yes, you remember him? But do you also remember that he was killed by his own cousin, the Death Eater Ethan Rosier, the same Death Eater that Head Auror James Potter murdered three years after? He was murdered inside his Muggle estate together with his wife. The name of their estate was Evans Manor."

Simultaneously gasps echoed inside the chamber. It was quite a preposterous idea that a renowned Pureblood like Alfonse would live a life as a Muggle. Lucius raised his hands to silence everyone and continued on his tale.

"That's the same question I asked my father. Why would 'The Alfonse Rosier' choose a life as a Muggle? Alfonse's first falling out happened when he secretly married Rose against the wishes of the elder Edmonds. The Edmonds wanted Rose to marry a French Pureblood whose family they had business ties with. Alfonse and Rose lived in seclusion on one of the estates that Alfonse inherited from his German great-uncle whom he was named after, Alfonse Evans. After six years, they were unfortunately unable to bear children. The Healers they consulted told them that their chances of having children were quite slim. They became desperate and went for the Muggle way. They went to America and undergone a Muggle procedure that enabled Rose to bear a child and the result is a Squib – Petunia Dursley nee Evans."

Lucius let it the information hang there for a while as he conjured a glass of water. Sipping from the glass, he could clearly see Dumbledore's dumbfounded expression. Who wouldn't be? If his father hasn't told him about this beforehand, he would be gaping like a fish right now. But it's no secret. The entire Death Eater Inner Circle knows about this through Ethan Rosier. That was the very reason why the Dark Lord gave Lily a choice, but she sadly chose the wrong side. Lucius once again raise his hand but everyone was already quiet before he did so. They were aptly listening to every word he said and he is soaking in all the attention.

"The couple had but lost hope that they would have another child so they decided that the best course of action is for them to totally leave the Wizarding World and live as Muggles. But after four years they unexpectedly had another daughter, Lily Althea. The suspected that Lily was magical but it was not until Lily performed accidental magic at the age of five that they were convinced. But instead of packing their bags and going back to the wizarding world to properly raise Lily as the Pureblood heiress that she should have been, they continued on their charade favoring their Squib daughter instead."

The uproar was momentous. For a Pureblood, having a Squib child is one shameful event in the family's history but to favor one over a magical child is blasphemy for the blood purists. Lucius observed the pandemonium with a contented smirk.

"That's when Mariana stepped in. She tried to convince her sister and brother-in-law to leave their Muggle lives, but they never relented; that's why she thought of passing this bill with the help of my father. Everything was all set but when the day of the Wizengamot session came, Mariana was unable to attend so as some of our allies." At this, Lucius nodded at a few people in the gallery. "My father was outraged and wanted to confront Mariana about this but when he arrived at the woman's home, she had no memory of the bill or that she has a niece named Lily. Alfonse used a strong modified memory charm on her that only wore off after Lily reached her majority." Before uproar could erupt, Lucius raised his hand and continued on. "Lily was also Obliviated. When she started Hogwarts I was in fifth year. Due to inter-house rivalries, I found it prudent not to approach her but I asked my friend's little sister, Annabelle Rookwood who was at the same year as Lily and a Ravenclaw to ask her why she choose to live as a Muggle. Annabelle reported to me that Lily believes that she is a Muggleborn and denies ever having an aunt. But it's not the only thing Annabelle found out, as she and Lily became quite good friends because of Lily's innate intelligence. She once confided to Annabelle how her sister Petunia detested her being magical, of how she found it hard to adjust to a new world she knows nothing of. Lily was denied her heritage and it was only through the urging of Sirius Black and James Potter that she took the heritage test in Gringotts. It wasn't only Black and Potter suspected about her heritage, but the entire Slytherin house. This…" Lucius raised a yellowing piece of parchment for everyone to see. "…is the proof. This is a copy of the heritage test Lily Althea Evans took in Gringotts. You can have a copy of this since this is a public document after she filed her status as a Pureblood when she applied as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries." Lucius could see the look of interest on many faces. Dumbledore seem to even consider the idea. "She took this test when she was thirteen yet her parents continued to deny her rightful place in our world, denied her rights as the heiress of the Most Noble and Ancient Houses of Rosier, Edmonds and Evans. Would you also deny the same rights to her son and just let him live a Muggle life and believe, upon arriving at Hogwarts that he is just another Half-blood trying to get by at school, without knowing his rightful place in our world? Would you continue to endanger his life by letting him stay with defenseless Muggles with only flimsy Blood Wards to protect him? Please consider this and I hope you would vote in favor of the bill that could protect our children's children from a similar fate."

There was applause as Lucius went back to his seat. Some even shook his hand, proud on how he is making ways to protect their traditions and enlightening them on the crime that Alfonse Rosier did to his family. This seems to elate Lucius more but his gaze never left Dumbledore. The old man looked pensive; he did not even noticed as a copy of the bill guidelines appeared in front of him. The Wizengamot immediately reviewed the bill. Even though Dumbledore was against the bill, he can't do anything but look for loopholes which there were none – Lucius made sure of it. Even his protestations that Harry is safest with his blood relatives because of the Blood Wards went on deaf ears. Many prominently Dark families know that Blood Wards are specific but not particularly more powerful than any other protective wards. It just aims to protect all _magicals _with the same blood as the intended person. There is actually no point why Dumbledore set that ward in the first place. The Daily Prophet article expounded on that and the question on why Albus Dumbledore would have any right to decide the boy's fate was laid open once more.

And as the votation started at the middle of the day, the bill received overwhelming support; even from some of Dumbledore's known supporters like Amos Diggory, Dedalus Diggle and Elphias Doge. Surprisingly enough, Amelia Bones voted in favor of the bill. It was unanimous. The bill was now a law. Lucius Malfoy can't help but feel victorious. He had achieved a lot of things today: he painted the Muggles in an unfavorable way that was based on hard facts; he had once again proved Pureblood supremacy as the brightest witch of the century was not a Muggleborn as they all claim her to be and her son just cuts the deal. Harry Potter is a Pureblood and Dumbledore can't change that.

* * *

Dumbledore felt so weary after the Wizengamot went on a recess. He never had an inkling that this would happen. Harry Potter, a Pureblood? He had never dreamt of it. The provisos discussed would make it impossible for him to choose a foster family for the boy. No one can overrule it, not even the boy's _magical guardian_. After the attack, the wizarding public was outraged on why the Boy-Who-Lived was residing with Muggles. It was then found out that he appointed himself as the boy's magical guardian and bypassed the Potters' will. The Goblins were just too pleased to penalize him. The Daily Prophet hasn't helped either. They printed an article on how Dumbledore supposedly controlled 'everything Potter' even before James and Lily died. The Ministry requested a thorough investigation but found nothing since the Goblins did not allowed Dumbledore to touch even a sickle of Potter fortune since his appointment as Harry's magical guardian was illegal.

The Department of Wizarding Welfare's sub-committee, the Magical Child Services would now be responsible in placing Harry in a rightful family. The families would apply for custody and would be approved by the department head and a separate Wizengamot body that Agatha Vance graciously accepted leadership.

Dumbledore isn't quite sure about Lucius' motives but he should be the first to speak to Harry to warn him of the people who may use him for their own gain. It could be hard to control the boy now but if he would just give him the right nudge, Harry Potter couldn't be a lost cause after all.

* * *

**"****_The_****_Prime Minister finally comments on rumors that his security detail was a wizard…_****"**

Before the news reporter could finish the report, the television set was turned off and footsteps could be heard heading upstairs. Dudley immediately scurried towards his bed and pulled the covers up to his head. He could hear a soft click as his door was slowly opened and then closed. The footsteps headed on further and stopped in front of what Dudley assumed to be his parents' bedroom.

"Pet?"

There was no response but Dudley could hear the sound of the doorknob being twisted. Silence reigned for a while before the footsteps headed back to the direction of his room but did not stop rather continued on downstairs.

**"****_He couldn't deny it. With the amount of pictographic evidences presented…_****"**

The television blared once more and a voice of a young man droned on. Dudley just listened, still trying to figure out what's really happening. He is so confused.

**"****_But do you think that this argument that Kingsley Shacklebolt was seen in the Keswick incident together with the alleged wand-carry-_****"**

There was a resounding click and the woman's voice was replaced by operatic singing and then another click where barking could be heard. This continued on until Dudley fell asleep, thinking that maybe the wizards know where his cousin is so that everything would be back to normal again. 


	9. Living the Life of Another

**A/N: I've got the idea of Kayleigh when I read UmbraSidus' The elegant green. My Kayleigh though is older and obviously there's no fem-Harry around here. I just like toying on the idea of another 'Dursley child'. **

**IX. Living the Life of Another**

It was a silent Thursday morning in No. 4 Privet Drive. The tension was still palpable as the Dursleys sat for breakfast. Petunia's eyes were bloodshot. She tried to hide it by pulling down the shutters as she saw some nosy neighbors by No. 5's rose garden, giving their house surreptitious looks (in their opinion). They heard the altercation last night anyway. There's no need to hide it but the wounds were so fresh that she can't get a hold of her emotions every time she remembers the events.

Five formally dressed individuals came knocking at their door late afternoon the other day. Dudley had just come back from school and let them in. The moment Petunia laid eyes on them, she knew what they wanted. She had been feeling very anxious the moment they left St. Mungo's. She wanted to see Harry for she could feel that she would never see her nephew again. Vernon tried to ease her emotions, telling that the magicals can never do such things for they don't have a right over Harry. But Petunia knows better than that. They would find ways and Petunia's opinion won't matter. She started packing Harry's things while Dudley and Vernon were out for the day. It was a slow coming for Petunia can't help but be drowned in misery at every reminder of his nephew. She hasn't had the chance to mourn her sister's death, she still felt a connection to Lily through Harry but now it was roughly severed from her. Her grief overwhelmed her being that she can't do anything but grieve. Her life seemed to stop. In her new plane of existence Vernon and Dudley doesn't exist; only pain and misery. But she was badly shaken awake from her self destruction when Dudley came into Harry's room and pried everything from her hands. He looked so miserable, so defeated that Petunia couldn't help but feel guilty. It had always been about her; her happiness and her pains. But then _they _came and made it all real. Petunia lost it that night. They are really taking Harry away from her. But Harry would never leave her.

"Pet, why don't you sit down and eat?"

Petunia almost dropped the pan out of surprise. She sharply turned to see that only Vernon was seated, Dudley's dishes had long been placed on the sink. She also noticed that Vernon's coffee mug was now empty.

"I'll make you another cup of coffee Vern. Just wait a minute…"

Petunia's hands were badly trembling as she fumbled for the mugs. One mug slipped from her hands and fell on the floor, breaking its handle. Petunia scrambled to pick up the broken mug, but before she could bend down Vernon forcefully grabbed her left elbow.

"Pet, stop this! Why are you doing this to yourself!"

'Why?' She's asking the same question in her mind but she cannot face it – the answers she had always feared. She just looked at Vernon blankly for a while before she broke down in tears.

"You're going to leave me too right? You're going to leave me!"

"Pet, what are you talking about? I'll always be here."

Though he meant it, Vernon felt guilt welling up deep inside him. He knows where Petunia is coming from; she's afraid to be abandoned the way he did years ago.

"They said they'll never leave me. But they did! You all did. I felt so alone. So helpless…"

Petunia was silent for a while as she leaned on the counter with her head bent down. When she finally spoke, it was full of pain and hopelessness.

"I went home to ask them if they'll still have me after I got pregnant and…and…but…when I came there. White caped Aurors were all around telling me, 'they're dead ma'am, they're dead.' That moment I also wanted to die. They left me. You all left me."

Vernon engulfed Petunia in a very tight hug and broke down into tears. He's such a bad man. He brought so much pain in her life that he can't believe that she still loves him the way she does.

"Then Kayleigh left me too. She-she could've have been ten now."

"Pet, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry Pet."

If only he knew…if only he'd been a stronger person. If he could only turn back time. The catatonic look on Petunia's eyes broke his heart into pieces. It was the same look she had after she lost the child she was carrying – their child. Lily hunted him down to make him see the pain he had caused her and now…He once again engulfed Petunia into a tight hug. He would do the right thing once again. He would do the right thing.

"And now Harry…"

"You didn't lose Harry Pet, you didn't. Harry may not live with us anymore. He may go wherever but he would still be our son. He's still your son. The way Lily had always been your sister. Everything will be fine this time. You don't need to pretend that you hate him… You can see him whenever…"

"But they won't allow me. I'm a Squib Vernon! I won't see Harry again!"

"Harry won't allow that Pet. Harry loves you Pet. He won't allow that to happen."

He's quite sure of that. They didn't raise Harry to be a weakling. He would fight for his freedom.

* * *

The slow flicker of candlelight illuminated eerie shadows on the black and white images. One image standout the most – the image of the famous lightning bolt scar. Nothing was more interesting and more elusive than this scar. It was the symbol of the Light's victory against the Dark. Healer Kramer subconsciously rubbed his left forearm. That scar had somehow liberated him. But it also imprisoned him in a world where he can't truly be free.

He turned to his left, to the enchanted images of the scar that he extracted from Harry Potter's scans. This had been something he developed based on the Muggle X-ray scans. It's a secret of course. The Ministry won't agree on adapting Muggle technology on the hospital's treatment. Healer Kramer scoffed at that 'It's their loss'. He suddenly burst out laughing as he thought of his former 'colleagues' reaction to his ventures into Muggle science. It's such a lovely irony, like a bare feet trudging in the snow - a beautiful tragedy.

Healer Kramer tapped his wand on the still images and it seemed to be brought to life. Another tap brought color to the images. The Healer's eyes immediately zeroed on the dark lightning bolt-shape etched on the image of Harry Potter's skull. He traced the edges of the scar as if it was something sacred. The scar ran deeper than they thought. A part of the skull was charred in the shape of the scar and the flesh itself on the boy's forehead could be considered dead. It seemed like the Killing Curse was only concentrated on that area, like it was unable to fully penetrate and function as it should – to sever the boy's lifeforce. In principle, the curse should've also been able to pierce through the boy's head; destroying part of his brain but there was a closely-knitted web of Avada Kedavra-green energy surrounding the boy's brain. When he tested this energy, it was positive that this energy has similar magical signature as the Killing Curse. Further scans showed that the energy web could be found all throughout his body; it's as if his body was producing its own Killing Curse. Healer Kramer actually shivered as he eyed the green glow on the boy's skull that pulsed right at that moment.

Healer Kramer made another scan to ascertain if the web is affecting the boy's core. He was baffled by what he found. Harry Potter's core was made up of strands of energy spooled like a yarn. Each energy source has different colors but as they congregate at the very depths of the never-ending labyrinth of energy strands, the strands would pulse as one and a bluish-white ball of light could be seen but it would only last for a few seconds before the strands of energy would continue circulating around the boy's body and then go back to the core's center in a never-ending cycle. During the boy's first days at the hospital, the strands were coiled around in the spool, the connections all severed except for the ones connected to vital processes of the body like the brain, heart and lungs. But as the days passed by and Restorative Draughts were continually ingested by the boy, the connections became alive. Similar webs in different colors started to form all over the boy's body. Healer Kramer tested the magical signature of each colors and found out that there were weak webs made of Warming Charms, color-changing webs that has a similar signature to Metamorphic magic, webs with unique magical signatures, slowly repairing shattered webs with the magical signature of a Magical Block and curiously enough, vitality webs leeching on a presence that the healer could identify as having the magical signature of the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord. Healer Kramer tilted his head as he watched the shattered remains of what is undeniably a part of the Dark Lord's soul. He can't help the sound of glee that came out from his throat. He is so tempted to just shatter those strands of evil as soon as possible but no, at this rate the strands are going to disappear no longer than a month. The boy is actually depending on it to heal himself as inhumanly fast as possible.

It is clear enough for Healer Kramer. Harry Potter is assimilating any magic that is cast directly to him. His core affects whatever remnant there is of his scar and not the other way around. Healer Kramer rubbed his hands together. Things are really looking up in this boring hospital.

* * *

She can't help but feel like someone's watching her. As Mediwitch Clara Delfin turned to her right, she almost jumped up in fright as Avada Kedavra-green eyes met her gaze. If not for the years of working in the British wizarding world's only hospital, she could've shouting on top of her lungs but only few things could faze her; seeing the Killing Curse directed towards her is one of that.

"Oh, Mr. Potter I was so surprised! I'll just call Healer Atkins and Kramer."

Clara hurried out of the room. She was very unnerved as those eyes seem to follow her every movement. Now how she wished that the boy would just stay asleep.

* * *

"Bert, Potter is awake."

Healer Atkin's blue image immediately flared out from the hospital's emergency communication floo. 'Potter is awake' the words brought a smile into Healer Kramer's lips. Healer Kramer grabbed his bulky Healer's robe and slipped it on his head. He schooled his features into his usual mask of a knowledge-obsessed Ravenclaw. There's a mixture of nervous anticipation, dread and nausea fluttering in his stomach. If only his dratted parents were alive, they would be horrified on how a little boy is screwing their precious Dark Lord.

* * *

He purposely traversed the wide corridors of the fourth floor and headed to the private rooms at the west wing of the floor. It wasn't long before his hand found the doorknob and twisted it. What he found inside was quite anticlimactic. The boy was seated on his bed with a breakfast tray in front of him. The Mediwitch Clara Delfin watched on by his side while Healer Atkins was putting a vial of Nutrient and Muscle Strengthening Potion on the tray.

"Healer Atkins, Clara."

"Bert. All his vitals are back to its normal rate. Clara here had already informed the MCS that young Mr. Potter is already awake. They would be here any moment."

"Okay."

Healer Kramer drew out his wand and motioned to make another scan on the boy but the scan returned nothing. He tried once more with the same results. He looked helplessly at Healer Atkin's direction.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"My scans worked just a little while ago."

Healer Atkins casted '_Ostendo Penitum' _(show through or reveal inside; it's Latin though) but no result appeared. Healer Atkins seemed annoyed but Healer Kramer focused his attention on the boy. Harry Potter was just sitting there, his head bowed and his arms were folded on his lap.

"Mr. Potter, we would like to check your well-being so let us perform our routine scans."

Healer Atkins' eyes widened upon hearing this and sharply turned to the boy.

"No."

The intense look on his Avada Kedavra-green eyes bore no doubt as it pinned them down. Clara Delfin can't help but shriek upon seeing those eyes once more.


	10. What We Secretly Wished for

**A/N: In this chapter there would be transitions from one scene to another seemingly unrelated scene. This is just to show events that occur in the same timeline. I hope you won't find it quite confusing. **

**X. What We Secretly Wished for**

Elspeth Merrick hurriedly gathered her team to answer the summons from St. Mungo's. Harry Potter is awake and they should be the first ones there. Among her team of three was a Mind Healer specializing on children, Healer Stillnight and Agatha Vance, the head of the Wizengamot committee overseeing the young Potter's welfare. As Mrs. Merrick flooed in the hospital's reception area, everyone seems to know what is happening and wanted to know every bit of the juicy gossip but one glare from the squat witch stopped everyone on their tracks. The small group hurriedly headed to the lift that would bring them to the fourth floor.

* * *

"Are you for sure?"

"Of course Albus! I saw old Agatha and Elspeth just passed by!"

Dumbledore was unsure for a moment, watching as another face seem to grow from his old friend's forehead but then burst out to be replaced by another one by the wizard's cheek. Sturgis Podmore is one of his trusted allies during the first war and even if he'd grown quite senile in the past years, he's still a Dumbledore loyalist. Dumbledore ended the connection before he sees another face sprouting from whichever part of Podmore's body. He did not even dust himself off before he grabbed some floo powder and shouted 'St. Mungo's!'

* * *

"I don't want magic! I want to go home!"

"Oh Merlin no! Just calm down! You have just healed from magical exhaustion…no…Stop this Mr. Potter. Please cooperate. This is for your own good."

Harry was backed into one corner of the room; strong winds were whirling around him and the two Healers backed away, trying to evade the sharp claws of raw magic. Clara had long left the room, to contact someone from the Department of Underage Magic Control. One of the guarding Hit Wizards threw up a shield charm while the other stayed on guard outside.

"Aunty! Where's my Aunty?! I want to see her. I want to go home!"

"Mr. Potter, please hear us out! It would be to your best interest to stay calm. Please!"

Harry seemed to calm down a bit. He was heavily leaning on the wall, panting. The healers expected the wind to stop and it did to be replaced by the spattering of rain. It did not take long before the room was flooded.

"What's happening here?"

* * *

Dumbledore had just arrived in the hospital's reception area. He ignored the curious looks and headed straight to the lifts when he arrived at the fourth floor, he was surprised to be soaked in ankle-deep ice-cold water. Raising the hem of his robes, he tiptoed towards Harry's room. He arrived just in time to hear Mrs. Merrick trying to appease the boy.

"Would you want to hurt him everytime you are upset? You need to be here Harry. This is your place. You'd get to see them soon if you want to."

Harry seem to contemplate what Mrs. Merrick had said, but something from what his aunt said keeps on nagging him.

_'Just forget about me Harry. I'm a Squib! I can never be a part of your world! I can never be a part of your life! Just forget about me like everyone in that world. Just forget about me… It would cause me more pain…do this for me. Just tell me that you want magic. That you are no longer content on your mundane life, just tell me Harry.' _

"You're lying! You would never let me see her because she's a Squib! Just tell me the truth!"

"Now my boy…"

"No!"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he saw Dumbledore. The walls started to undulate and then it became translucent. Harry leaned further and the wall cascaded down on him like a waterfall.

"You were spying on me! You're the reason why I'm here!"

"You are mistaken my boy. It was Lu…"

Agatha Vance immediately cut off Dumbledore; knowing well where the old wizard was heading.

"Mr. Potter, the governing body of the wizarding world decided that it would be safe for you and your family if you stay within our world so that accidents like what happened last Saturday won't happen again."

Harry looked impassive but deep inside he was a whirlwind of emotions. He could hear the growls, his aunt's helpless pleas and Dudley's cries. Dudley's cries. The butterflies on his stomach suddenly lurched forward. Have he really put them in danger? Then he remembered his uncle's frightened look as he lashed out at his aunt.

_'Just forget about me… It would cause me more pain…do this for me.'_

"No."

"We are here to help you Harry. There's no need to be afraid. We would help you protect your family."

"Miss…I think this is not the best approach."

"It's Healer Stillnight, Headmaster. I'm a mind healer. I think I know what I'm doing. Harry..."

They could see Harry being covered by a curtain of water as he leaned further on the wall. Only his green eyes could be discerned by the rest of the people in the room.

"Harry, please listen…"

"_Just forget about me…"_

"We won't hurt you Harry."

_'…just tell me Harry.'_

He could barely hear what they were saying. All he could hear were his aunt's pleas before he succumbed into darkness once more.

* * *

"You found Timothy?"

Rodney Smith sighed as a limping Reginald Allen leaned on his desk. Behind Allen were two old Aurors that looked exasperated; one mouth to him 'Just let him'. Smith understood them. Reginald seemed to be traumatized by the events of last Friday. He escaped from St. Mungo's that Sunday and refused to go back unless the Aurors find his teammate. It was an understandable demand. The DMLE wanted to do that but the reshuffling and Madam Bones' suspension made for a chaotic transition at the department. Smith had been Bones' temporary replacement until the end of the month. He has no idea whatsoever on how to manage such an important department with such big problems. That's why he now found himself in a quandary: what would he tell Reginald? The ICW had limited their movement in Muggle areas and werewolves basically live around those areas.

"Allen, we cannot search for Wragner. The ICW…"

"To hell with the ICW! WE must find Timothy…he was badly bitten. He had wounds…here…"

The look on Reginald's face was of pure sorrow. Tears seem not to stop falling from his eyes as he pointed at different parts of his body. Smith felt sorry for him not because he experienced this horror this early in his career but because they _let _him experience this. He should've been in the Auror Academy, preparing to be an Auror and not acting like a kid trying to dress up in his parent's clothes. It's very unfortunate indeed that they would lose great candidates.

"Allen, just think that this is just part of the job. Separate your personal affiliations when in the job. Don't let your emotions affect your performance."

"No…Sir…"

Reginald kneeled down on the floor. Images of what had happened kept on flashing on his mind; Greyback completely taking his original form and his friend, Timothy Wragner at his feet lying on the floor like a discarded toy. 'Greyback' was all he could utter. His was trembling from fear, his hold on his wand slowly slacking as he saw the look of feral fury on the werewolf's face. He wanted to curse the beast but his mind was on overdrive. Before he knew it, Greyback picked up Timothy's limp body and sunk his sharp teeth on his friend's shoulder. Reginald was able to cry a garbled 'No! Stop!' but Greyback only replied with a gurgled laugh, Timothy's blood flowing from his teeth as it sank deeper into Timothy's flesh. Horror filled Reginald's consciousness. He wanted to curse Greyback but he was frozen in fear. As Greyback Apparated away, the last thing that Reginald saw was Timothy's blue eyes staring at him lifelessly.

"No…No… I don't want this job anymore! Please, don't let me see them die ever again!"

* * *

A growl resonated around the dim room. He could feel his cub. He is near but he cannot move. His body hurts all over; he can't even move a muscle. What happened to him? The last thing he could remember was a searing pain on his side and then all of a sudden Greyback's huge hands transformed into paws; time seem to slow down as sharp claws emerged from the bloody paw and ripped on his flesh. Pain was no stranger for him but at that time he felt like it was his end. But why is he still alive? And why can't he see anything? Why can't he wake up? He could smell a presence just around the corner. He could smell its fear – the human is afraid of him but it could bring him to his cub. He needs to see him, to protect him. But as he tried to open his mouth to speak, no words came out and his struggles ended up sounding like agonizing moans. Why can't he talk? He wanted to rip these confining things into pieces… He was about to cry for help when the human shrieked and ran out of the room, leaving Remus Lupin alone once more.

* * *

"When will we go see Harry Potter father?"

Lucius Malfoy seemed lost in thought. He was absentmindedly sipping on a glass of Ogden's New Blood Wine. Draco just patiently waited for his father's response. He sat ramrod straight on his seat; his hair and clothes impeccable as ever. Narcissa was at her son's side, fussing on his hair.

"The old coot would probably be there, trying to educate his Golden Boy on the wonders of the Greater Good."

"But father won't we…"

Draco flinched as his father pinned him with a sharp look.

"Don't you remember our position with the Dark Lord?"

Draco bowed his head, not daring to meet his father's eyes. Narcissa just tried to comfort him by smoothing the hair on his nape but it did nothing to soothe the boy as he felt his mother's fingers tremble at every touch.

"The Dark Lord will decide what he will do with the boy. We did our own share of glory. Better let others test the waters before we wade in the murky waters. Better remember that Draco. That way, whoever wins we win with them."

Lucius waited for his son to say something but the boy just looked down on his lap.

"Three years, we will see Harry Potter in three years."

* * *

"Why in Merlin's name is it flooding here? Albus Dumbledore, do something about this!"

Dumbledore just passed by the old witch as if not hearing anything. A scowl seemed to be permanently etched on his face as he briskly strode towards the lift. His first encounter with the Boy-Who-Lived did not go well.

"Dumbledore!"

Those hags did not allow him to explain to the boy and even implied that he is not concerned about the boy's welfare. They can't understand that he is not just looking out for the boy but for the entire wizarding world. The fate of the wizarding world greatly rests upon the eight year-old's shoulder and he cannot gamble the lives of many all for the inconvenience of one individual. But he is well aware that he has no power over these circumstances right now. A drastic move would just make things more complicated. Maybe he should just wait until he becomes the boy's Headmaster. He stopped and contemplated for a while, not even bothering to raise his robes as water flowed into the lift from the fourth floor corridor. The old witch could be distantly heard grumbling and complaining. But as the lift's door slowly closed on his face, Dumbledore made a decision, he would wait for three years to come – to see the boy face to face that is. He could just move in the sidelines for now.


	11. What Time Could Change

**A/N: Slight Weasley bashing! Meany Augusta Longbottom! **

* * *

**XI. What Time Could Change**

Some people may want (or have) to wait, but Mr. and Mrs. Dougherty can't just stand to wait any longer. The Doughertys could be considered a counterpart to the Edmonds in the Irish wizarding socio-political hierarchy. There are but a few ancient and noble wizarding bloodlines in Ireland. Many are just minor families that could trace magical blood within four to six generations. For some reason, many Irish Purebloods opt to marry Muggles and Muggleborns, thereby diluting the magical blood.

The Doughertys don't condone to things like that and upon hearing the terrible fate that Lily Potter nee Evans had to endure under the tyranny of her own father, they became livid. Ulrich Douherty had always been a stickler to tradition. He had been raised that way and he wouldn't have married Amandine if she wasn't raised the same way. He had met the Edmonds when he was a young boy and can't believe that someone from that family would abandon their blood right and live like lowly Muggles. 'It could be Rosier's fault.' Ulrich told his self many times. 'But that would be remedied, we would raise Hadrian the way Pureblood children should. I promise that.'

Ulrich's thoughts suddenly turned grim, as he remembered the document he received that morning. He had pulled strings in the Ministry just to get his hands on this document. It's a shortlist of wizarding families that are applying for young Hadrian Potter's custody. He can't help but sneer upon seeing some names: Bones, Madam Bones was a dignified woman but she gave her niece too much leeway and allowed her to gallivant around with that Half-Blood Abbot and dress like a Muggle; McLaggen, a common family obviously trying to elevate their status in society; McGonagall, does she even have a family of her own? And the Weasleys. That family always makes Amandine cringe.

Ulrich and Amandine has nothing against about poor people and actually sympathized to Arthur Weasley who was the fourth son in a family of eight and received no inheritance from his Ministry-worker of a father except for the recommendation to work on his old post. But Arthur and his wife Molly should've tried to make themselves look more dignified. Ulrich and Amandine had the misfortune to bump on them in Diagon Alley two years ago. The Weasleys were with all their children, apparently shopping for Hogwarts. The family was very loud not only because of their hair color but of how the children, especially the younger ones act like scoundrels. They have no manners whatsoever and their hygiene was quite poor. They would talk in loud voices and bicker in front of everybody. They would gawk at anything on the window displays like Muggleborns on their first day in the wizarding world. And their clothes are those even clothes or rags? A simple _Scourgify _and _Reparo_ could've repaired those garments.

Ulrich is so sad on how such a Pureblood family degraded to that level. They're not the only ones though but they're the only paupers who had the audacity to apply for custody to Hadrian Potter. How would they even feed and clothe the boy? Ulrich is quite sure that Albus Dumbledore is behind this. He had heard before that the Prewetts fought loyally on Dumbledore's side during the war and this could be a way to repay them. Ulrich snorted at the thought. It makes perfect sense though. This Weasleys always act as if they are 'somebody' in the wizarding world even in their impoverished state; it's only logical that the reason behind it would be that 'somebody' big is watching their backs. Well, Ulrich will have none of that. One thing that he hates the most aside from waiting is losing. He will have custody of Hadrian ASAP.

* * *

Mrs. Merrick's team was back at the Ministry. Harry was once again left unconscious due to magical exhaustion. 'If that boy continues like this!' Mrs. Merrick thought ruefully. There are a lot of things to do in her department and if the boy's initial reaction would be the basis, they would have a hard time on this case. The boy would surely reject any applications for his custody. He seemed not repulsed in living as a Muggle as opposed to what many Purebloods think. He actually wants to go back there.

As they were getting near the MCS office, some members of the special Wizengamot committee caught up to them. One of them was Augusta Longbottom. The Regent of the Longbottom family had in the beginning expressed her intentions of applying for custody but she had been immediately refused. The guidelines were set so that the boy (or any Pureblood child with the same situation) will be placed in a family that a) is traditional b) has a Wizengamot seat and c) doesn't have children that is around the boy's age (until three years older or younger). This is especially set by Lucius Malfoy 'To avoid having the boy compete with the other child for attention'. Mrs. Merrick snorted at that. She is sure that the opposite would be true. Parents would surely bend backwards just to give the 'Boy-Who-Lived' all his wishes even to the detriment of their own child. It's an honor to be able to raise the Wizarding World's savior after all.

But she should give it to Lucius Malfoy. The man is a Slytherin through and through. By setting those guidelines, he eliminated almost half of the applicants and secured that the boy won't have solid alliances with his peers when he arrive at Hogwarts for those who pass all three criteria are either childless social snobs or neutral families. Most neutral families are adequately social and very passive in the political scene. The Malfoys made it clear that they have no intention to partake in this – making them noble knights in the eyes of the public. They could do no wrong in everyone's eyes right now. They won't even suspect that they are being manipulated into doing the blonde's bidding.

Mrs. Merrick sighed for good measure as they entered her office. The Longbottom Matriarch was grumbling just behind her. She was enraged on how some disqualified applicants were reconsidered. Mrs. Merrick doesn't have the heart to tell Mrs. Longbottom that the Boy-Who-Lived would be best left away from the abrasive way she calls 'child rearing'. Agatha Vance made the explaining for her. Albus Dumbledore had decided that the guidelines were so stringent and requested to allow some 'honorable' families on the shortlist.

"Don't worry Augusta, you will have the opportunity to say what you think of those people during ocular inspection and interview tomorrow."

The old woman just huffed and grumbled some choice words before settling down on her seat for the meeting. It would be a very long afternoon for all of them; Mrs. Merrick is sure of that.

* * *

"Are you really sure about this?"

Three varying shades of blond heads were peeking from a shrubbery on a small park across Wisteria Walk. It was almost dark and the three small figures were still carrying their schoolbags as they inconspicuously observed the old lady from No. 12.

"Of course! Harry said that the batty cat lady has a magical fireplace…"

"I'm not talking about that Dudley. I'm trying to say that there aren't really any Wizards so the possibility of them having Harry is quite…I don't know. Crazy maybe?"

Samantha Claude whipped her long blonde hair away from her face. She looked quite annoyed but the two boys seem not to pay mind to her foul mood. Darren Fitzgerald just rolled his eyes and leaned back on the shrub; exasperated that they're having this conversation – again.

"I already told you Sammie, they exist! My cousin suddenly quit grade school and attended a questionable boarding school in Massachusetts. I'd really have my hand cut down if he truly got a scholarship for a special school. He can barely pass his tests and he doesn't have any special skills! He doesn't play sports! And what about this wand hocus pocus? I saw it! I tell you!"

"Yeah, no need to shout Darren. We heard you just fine."

"Don't call me Sammie!"

"But you don't believe me! Haven't you seen the news? They're all talking about those Wizards!"

"I don't know. Unlike you we actually sleep early Darry."

"Uh…I actually saw it Sam."

Samantha just huffed and focused her attention somewhere else. There were some children playing on the park. She almost tore-up upon remembering that they also used to play here; she, Abigail, Margaux, Stephen and…Harry. She really misses Harry. He had always been nice to her.

"C'mon! Let's just pour this on the fireplace…"

"Hey! Give that back Darren!"

"Geesh. You're so overprotective of that Dude…"

Dudley did not reply and just remained silent. He was intently staring at the green powder as if it held all the answers to his questions.

"Harry is one of _them._"

"Really? Why haven't you told us this before? This is important Dudley Dursley!"

"You're kidding right? Harry's normal. Well, as normal as geniuses go."

"I saw him. He was…"

Dudley seemed not able to express what he truly feels about the situation. He just slumped on the ground and watched the fast moving clouds in the darkening sky.

"So, what do we do now? Would we really be able to break in Mrs. Figg's house? Won't we be trespassing? It's also a crime here right?"

"Harry planned this before we left for Shrewsbury but Mom refused to have Mrs. Figg babysit me."

"I think she also goes out for groceries and stuff that normal people do. We should just wait for that time and break-in her house."

"You're such a genius Sammie!"

"I can't help but try."

* * *

"No! Not Harry!"

An image of a redheaded woman appeared on his mind's eye but it was immediately replaced by a bright flash of green and then an image of his Aunt Petunia appeared. She looks scared and then his Uncle Vernon's face flashed, followed by Dudley's; they were all terrified of something. Then an indistinct image of a man appeared. He seemed to be on some kind of haze but as the man came nearer, Harry could make out the man's face. It was emaciated with high, protruding cheek bones. But what sent chills down to Harry's spine were the man's eyes – it was blood red. Before Harry could recover, the man suddenly whipped out a wand and pointed it directly into Harry's field of vision.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry suddenly sat bolt-upright on his bed. He was heavily panting and he could hear his heart beating frantically. 'What was that dream all about?' But no matter how hard he scours his mind for an answer, he still couldn't find anything. He just leaned heavily on his pillow, trying to calm himself down. He suddenly frowned when he remembered that morning's events. He lost control yet again. That was so embarrassing, unacceptable. Losing control in front of his family was one thing but losing it in front of complete strangers is just advertising his weakness. He's no weakling! Those bullies won't be able to get him again! He gritted his teeth in fury. He won't lose control ever again. He breathed deeply and schooled his features into a look of bored disinterest.

He looked around the room and noticed for the first time minute details of the room. It was a modest-sized room. Harry's bed was at the center covered in cerulean sheets and pillows. There were animated winged-creature design at the seams of the sheets and pillow. The bed was the perfect size for him and the wall was painted to make the room look like a child's room – a magical child's room; Harry thought ruefully as he observed another set of strange creatures bouncing up and down on the blue-green wall. He could feel magic emanating from almost everything inside the room but some are stronger than the others. The windows for example, Harry knows that they are not real but they feel real nonetheless. There's just a welcoming aura surrounding the windows and Harry could but admire the ones who made it. He is sure that is such a piece of work. Maybe he should learn how to do it and put a window each on his and Dudley's room. He immediately stiffened when he remembered what the old witch had told him that morning.

_'Mr. Potter, the governing body of the Wizarding World decided that it would be safe for you and your family if you stay within our world so that accidents like what happened last Saturday won't happen again.'_

How dare them! Harry could feel something from deep within him flaring but he forced himself to calm down. He won't lose control again. He will think logically. They could be right. The scary man was looking for him after all. _'Hello there. I finally found you, my cub!'_ It was him. What if that man harms his family just to get to him? '…_it would be safe for you and your family if you stay within our world so that accidents like what happened last Saturday won't happen again.' _But he doesn't want to leave them…but.

He tried to dispel away the troubling thought and focused on the windows. The pair of windows was overlooking a vast meadow with different-colored wildflowers growing in small patches. There was a stream running the expanse of the panoramic view. Harry remembered the waterfall from that morning. Maybe he could also touch the water on the painted wall. He gently placed his open palm on the wall. Nothing happened for a while but as Harry stared intently at the wall, it slowly melted and engulfed Harry's arm.

"It's cold!"

Harry immediately retracted his arm upon feeling the cold water. He was now eyeing the flowers. Maybe he should gather some flowers and put it on the vase by his bedside table. Harry turned to the said vase. There were red flowers there that smelt really good and there was a card tied to the vase's neck. There were also other cards on the table but they all feel magical so he did not bother look on them. 'Probably from people I don't even know.' Harry thought. He shifted his focus on the task at hand and soon enough his arm started to sink into the wall. He pulled different colors of flowers, not really caring just enjoying the idea of touching something from a painting. Few bald patches started to show on the painting. Harry just saw a lone orchid and was about to grab it when he felt someone coming. He retracted his hand as fast as he could, pulling the entire plant in the process.

That was how Healer Kramer and Clara saw the boy, with a freshly uprooted plant in hand and a bunch or flowers at his foot. Healer Kramer just stared at the scene for a while before he turned to the fake window. There were bald areas on the painting which were not there before and there were trodden flowers and grasses in areas very near where the boy was standing.

"Er…Is that for Clara?"

* * *

"Oh, I left my grocery list at home."

Mrs. Figg made a U-turn back to Wisteria Walk. Her Volkswagen Beetle was slow moving and it looked like it would stall any moment but it got by the village's entrance just fine. As she arrived across from her house she stopped the car and headed to the house. He was about to open the door with her key when she noticed something. The house was unusually quite – too quiet. Just the sheer number of her kneazles won't allow a silent moment in her house. She warily entered her house. Her kneazles couldn't be seen anywhere. This worried her; they were always about the house. She headed to the kitchen but she was just halfway there when she caught sight of her sitting room. 'The floo connection is open!' She is quite sure that she locked the floo before she left but green light was visible from the hearth. She hurried to the fireplace and what she saw shocked her to the bones.

"Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"


	12. As Certain as the Rain

**XII. As Certain As the Rain**

"I am the only one here now because Mrs. Merrick and Mrs. Vance are out inspecting the area of residence of your prospective guardians. Do you understand why they should do that?"

Harry just nodded, averting his gaze from Healer Stillnight. He was looking at the now familiar scenery. Rain was pouring on the meadows, forming pools of water on the bald patches. How he wished he could play on those pools, splattering muddy water everywhere as he chased his friends in a never-ending game of tag.

"But…"

"Tell me what you feel Harry."

"I love my family. I want to go home and be with them. Do I really have to go?"

Healer Stillnight was silent for a moment. Her icy blue eyes seem to be probing Harry. Harry just sat on the small couch, his gaze still out somewhere.

"I went to see your Aunt yesterday Harry."

There was no immediate reply or even any reaction on Harry's face. The rain continued to rage on the fields. Lightning could be seen from time to time as it reflected around the room.

"Aunt Petunia's always uncomfortable when talking about magic."

"Do you know why?"

"She doesn't have magic. She's a Squib. She once said that Great Aunt Mariana hates her for some reason. I think it's because she's a Squib. She can't be like the rest of her family…"

"That's very observant of you Harry."

Harry just bowed down and looked at his nails. Her Aunt had always implied that she was the 'odd one' in the family. Harry had entertained his self before at Evans' Manor by looking at the picture frames. The Evans seemed to be a happy family but still, there's something in the eyes of the young Petunia... His musings were suddenly disrupted as Healer Stillnight put a vial on the coffee table. Inside the vial was a swirling bluish liquid.

"These are memories Harry; memories from your Aunt. She wanted you to see it. It will answer some of your questions."

"Sometimes I just don't want to know."

"But more often than not, we have to right?"

Harry looked wearily at Healer Stillnight.

"Change is always something painful. It's like growing out of your favorite clothes…leaving people behind. Accepting change is just like accepting that there's still room for you to grow. Though you may wish that you won't just grow too fast, change sometimes is what gives life purpose."

Harry did not reply. Healer Stillnight brought out a stone basin with runes etched on the brim. She emptied the contents of the vial into the basin and gently stirred it with her wand.

"I will be outside for an errand Harry. If you're ready to view your Aunt's memories, you can dip a finger into the Pensieve."

Healer Stillnight stood and left the room, but not before turning back to Harry and giving the boy a soft smile. Harry just watched her go. As the door clicked shut, a tear gently fell down from Harry's eyes. He did not even give the Pensieve a second glance as he stood up and headed to his bed. The rain had turned into a full-blown storm. He turned to his side and morosely watched as the flowers he pulled out from the painting was slowly melting down into a puddle of goo, dropping down from the vase and covering the get-well-soon cards. _'Our entire family is hoping that you get well…' _The letters were smudged down, the red ink mixing with the goo's dirty color. Harry followed the goo's journey until it pooled down on the surface of the table; his eyes were soon lidded with sleep, the rain wrapping him in a comforting embrace while the wind sang him a sad lullaby of times long past.

* * *

"We have wards, my eldest is a Curse Breaker at Gringotts; we also have a secured floo connection and the neighborhood is almost entirely magical."

Mrs. Merrick felt nervous as she eyed the rickety house called 'The Burrow'. It was somewhat…unstable. She eyed the Weasleys and noticed that they were dressed nicely today. The family led them inside, into a kitchen and dining room rolled into one. The place looked clean but somewhat cluttered.

"So your two sons graduated from Hogwarts with the help of the Impecunious Fund?

The elder Weasleys winced at Augusta Longbottom's words. Mrs. Merrick just pretended not to hear anything and examined the magical clock hanging by the kitchen. The other members of the committee seemed interested though.

"And you have a third son now in Hogwarts, availing of the same program. Isn't that an abuse to the institution's generosity?"

"Ma'am, we may be not rich but we work honest and clean…"

"Now, now Arthur, you might've have misunderstood me. I'm not implying that you are just freeloaders trying to feed off on charity. What I want to know is that why, in the present state of your family would you want another mouth to feed? I want to clarify that the Ministry won't have a hand in raising Hadrian. You will have to spend money to feed and clothe him. Know that Hadrian is used to a comfortable lifestyle. Even in the Muggle world, the Rosiers' are very well-off. How would you be able to provide that?"

Mrs. Merrick immediately stepped in. Mrs. Longbottom can be quite insulting and the worse part of it is that she can't tell the difference between being frank and being insulting. And by the looks of Mrs. Weasley and her youngest son's face, a major explosion would soon occur.

"Molly, I'd like to see the bedrooms."

"Oh. Yes, Mrs. Merrick it's this way. We add new rooms…"

Mrs. Weasley's voice trailed off as she led Mrs. Merrick upstairs. Mr. Weasley led Agatha Vance and Mrs. Merrick's secretary, Regis to the sitting room while Mrs. Longbottom and two more members of the Wizengamot committee awkwardly stood with the Weasley children by the kitchen/dining room.

"Uhmm. So you have an apple orchard."

The old Mr. Combs suddenly spoke with that gravelly voice of his in an attempt to break the ice.

**"**Yeah."

"Well…that's…nice. Yeah. Nice."

* * *

"Lucius. Lucius, where are you going?"

"I'm in a hurry Narcissa. We'll talk later."

Narcissa wanted to stop Lucius but she knows that it would be futile. She just watched her husband leave with the Abraxan-drawn carriage. On his hand was a rectangular object covered in black cloth that was securely bound by a leather belt. He is plotting something – something really big and she is nervous about it.

* * *

"Be quick and quiet about it. Any form of failure is unacceptable."

The dark-hooded figure just nodded and tucked the object inside his satchel and disappeared with a soft pop. Lucius leaned back on his seat and tapped the carriage's floor with his cane. The carriage soon started to traverse across narrow cobbled streets.

"I really don't understand what you are up to this time Lucius."

Lucius leaned on his walking cane and faced the person across him.

"You know well that he will return Severus. He will, because he can."

Severus Snape just turned away and pretended to be interested on the horse-drawn traffic. It had always been definite – the Dark Lord will return but there's also the question of when, where and most importantly, how. Severus had learned to appreciate this peace, no matter how monotonous and lonesome.

"I don't think that…"

"No Severus, that book will be the key. That book that has the mind of Tom Marvolo Riddle – the Dark Lord's mind, Severus."

Severus searched Lucius for any form of deceit but there was none.

"Don't you want out Lord to rise to power once more Lucius?"

"Do you Severus?"

Severus did not answer and once more observed the bustling marketplace specializing in magical creatures. He could see caged Crups, fangs of different sizes and shape. One peddler was even proudly advertising werewolf fur and some of the displays look like they came from young wolves.

"You will tell Dumbledore."

Severus did not answer and continued on his sight-seeing.

"For the 'Greater Good'… how many times have you told yourself that in the past years Severus?"

Severus remained impassive.

"Half-Blood Prince?"

It was obvious that Severus was fighting back a retort but he held his tongue.

"I will find ways to prevent the Dark Lord from coming back. I'm on top right now. No half-breed can stop me. Are you with me Severus?"

The journey ended that way but Severus' silence is enough of an answer for Lucius.

* * *

**"There were burglars inside my house! They killed one of my cats and destroyed my fireplace!"**

"Well, that didn't go well."

Dudley and Sam just dumbly nodded as they saw Mrs. Figg's wailing image on TV and then her collapsed roof was focused. They winced upon seeing that. They did not really intend to destroy Mrs. Figg's house whatsoever – it just happened. They successfully broke in the old lady's house that morning through the kitchen window. They did not worry on the neighbors for most of the houses were unoccupied. When they got inside the house, they were faced with _a lot_ of problems well, actually sixteen of them – Mrs. Figg's cats.

The cats started screeching loudly and motioned to attack them but they immediately ran towards the direction of the sitting room where the fireplace was located. It wasn't an easy task for the cats started on clawing at them and tripping them down but Darren had this idea of throwing away his packed lunch at the cats. Some of the cats did not bit the bait but apparently, majority of them were hungry so the group successfully entered the sitting the room.

Locking the door behind them, they were confronted by a very fat white cat. Before the old cat could do anything, Dudley tackled it and threw it out of the window. But the cat did not go without a fight and scratched Dudley's arm. As they closed the window, they saw Mrs. Figg's car just making it out of Wisteria Walk. They continued on their mission and poured the entire bottle of floo powder into the fireplace. Nothing happened so they lighted it using a match they brought with them but it won't burn. Darren had this idea of pouring kerosene on it. He brought some from his Dad's outdoor burner and poured some on the powder. The floo powder suddenly flared and crackled. The flame just got bigger and bigger. But Dudley won't give up and shouted Harry's name but no face came out of the flame. They were thinking of a way to put out the fire when Samantha saw Mrs. Figg's car coming back. They immediately escaped through the window and blindly ran out into the woods.

"We did not kill the cat."

"Yeah, but we caused its death."

"We're not talking about this ever again."

The two just nodded as they saw the disposable food container that once held Darren's lunch flashed on TV.

* * *

"Dromeda, look at this. Isn't this Adela Thompson?"

Andromeda suddenly emerged from the open door, wiping her hands on an apron. She squinted on the television screen before her expression changed into one of recognition.

"Indeed. But how could it be?"

"She said that she's Arabella Figg."

"Really? I can't be mistaken, that's Adela. She's just two years ahead of me in Hogwarts. She's a Hufflepuff."

"Yeah. We're housemates. I'll call Nymphadora and ask her to check on this. That woman is supposedly dead."

Andromeda just got her glasses and further scrutinized the woman on the television. She can't be mistaken. But as the news clip ended, her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as she mouthed the words 'Little Whinging'.


	13. What People Think of You

**XIII. What People Think of You**

**BOY-WHO-LIVED TELLS DUMBLEDORE TO 'SOD OFF'**

**_Dumbledore's first meeting with the Boy-Who-Lived did not go as smoothly as expected. As what one of the Mediwitches said, Dumbledore should now 'tread the water carefully'._**

"Lies! Lies! More lies!"

"Molly, I was reading that!"

"We won't be reading that garbage in our house. Especially when Harry arrives."

Arthur Weasley just shook his head and continued on his breakfast. The fiasco that was the ocular inspection was enough proof for Arthur that the MCS and the Wizengamot committee aren't in favor of placing the Boy-Who-Lived in their custody. It wasn't just Augusta's acerbic comments but the looks the group gave their house and his children. He had long thought that maybe the boy would be better-off with another family who's quite more…capable. But Molly won't have any of it. She thinks that the likes of Lucius Malfoy is going to influence the boy if he is placed with another family other than a 'Light' family. But something about what Augusta said still bugs him. Harry Potter came from very rich and prominent families. Those families run in the same social circles as the Malfoys. And those families being combined into one person… He just sighed and continued on his breakfast.

"Ron, chew your food properly."

* * *

"We were quite surprised that you pushed through with this meeting even though it's not a working day Mrs. Merrick."

"We're quite sorry about this inconvenience Amandine, Ulrich. But young Mr. Potter is bound to be released this Monday and we find it as less of a discomfort if he is placed to a permanent home by that time."

"We do understand Elspeth. We were worried about the boy but since visiting him is not allowed… Oh well, let's all take a seat. Can we have the interview first before we look around the house? It's almost lunch and we could discuss everything while eating."

"That would be nice Amandine."

"Let's come inside everyone."

So far, Mrs. Merrick is much more comfortable with the Doughertys. They tend to be overly formal at times but she knows this family well. The Wizarding world is a 'small world' after all. Ulrich's father is a member of the Wizengamot and owns the Veer Broomstick Company that manufactures the Nimbus models. He also finances the Irish Quidditch team. Mrs. Merrick's daughter plays as chaser in the Holyhead Harpies so she quite knows these details and they often see each other in Quidditch parties.

Ulrich on the other hand continued his late mother's legacy and runs the Impecunious Fund for less fortunate families. Mrs. Merrick could just see Mrs. Longbottom's mouth quivering excitedly. It would make her day to tell the Doughertys on how some beneficiaries are 'abusing' their charity. Mrs. Merrick just braced herself for the coming onslaught and nodded politely as Amandine offered her the seat across.

Amandine is from a Scottish Pureblood family. They were basically a neutral family and Amandine's father wasn't the heir but made a good fortune on his own by being a Rune Master. He was one of those who fortified Gringott's security wards. Amandine was his only daughter and did not even worked after finishing Beauxbaton. Amandine was a pampered Pureblood princess but she was also known for her Spellcasting.

"So, you are actually the second to last family we came to interview in the last three days, Mr. and Mrs. Dougherty. We are off to the Professor McGonagall this afternoon."

"That gives you only a little time to look around but I am sure that some if not all of you have been around here a time or two."

The inspectors just nodded. The Doughertys had hosted quite a few parties in the past.

"But I just can't help but feel rather slighted over the fact that some disqualified applicants were reconsidered even though they clearly did not pass the majority of the qualifications."

Mrs. Merrick just nodded, they got that a lot. Some applicants were even very vocal about their disagreement but Dumbledore still controls part of the Wizengamot – the part that often attends meetings.

"You know that lad, politics. But don't ya worry; they can't control whoever gets the boy's custody."

Ulrich actually smiled at what Mr. Combs had said. This process in itself had been nothing but a circus for him. And the end of the day, everyone knows who truly deserve to raise Harry Potter.

"Don't worry Ulrich, we will have our decision tomorrow. We would inform you personally if you were chosen and the news would be printed on the Ministry announcements section of the Daily Prophet."

"Or the front page."

They all chuckled at that. Small talk followed as they continued on their meal. It was before the dessert was served that Mrs. Longbottom made her opening salvo.

"Ulrich, I'd like to warn you about some people who are abusing your generosity."

Amandine actually raised an eyebrow at this. Mrs. Merrick can't just help but groan. Well, this is all out of her hands. When Augusta wants something done, she can be quite persistent.

* * *

"What did you do? I thought that I told you to be inconspicuous Arabella?"

"But Albus, Hadrian is no longer here. There's no need for hiding. What would these Aurors need of me though? I…"

The floo connection was suddenly cut down as Dumbledore stood up and locked the floo network with a few flicks of his wand. Things are certainly going downhill. 'The woman actually told the Aurors that she would talk to me first!' Dumbledore thought furiously. But they won't have any evidence. Arabella had her uses but she is not the brightest of Witches. He just has to think of a way to clean up this mess.

* * *

"Healer Stillnight…"

Healer Stillnight curiously turned to Harry. The boy was giving her a cold shoulder ever since she gave him Petunia's memories. He isn't even looking at him right now. He was looking down an empty piece of parchment with a quill poised in his hand.

"…Why do people call me the Boy-Who-Lived?"

Healer Stillnight was about to answer when Harry looked at her straight in the eye.

"Who am I really?"

* * *

"What is this? We have a killer headline already. We can print this for the evening edition tomorrow."

"No!"

Barnabas Cuffe almost jumped a feet from his seat as Healer Kramer slammed his fist on the parchment-filled desk. The brass nameplate that reads '_Barnabas Cuffe, Editor In-Chief' _fell from the desk with a dull thud. Cuffe held his hands on his chest as if he's in mortal peril.

"Print it today in whatever page you want as long as I see it in tomorrow's morning paper or you won't have any of it."

"Okay! We're printing it!"

Cuffe immediately pulled the thin piece of parchment from Healer Kramer's grasp. The healer looked satisfied enough and left Cuffe's office without a word. Cuffe grumbled under his breath as he ironed out the crumpled parchment with his wand. The British wizarding society is really going down if their healer's attitude is anything to go by. He could faintly hear a maniacal laugh from beyond his door. He involuntarily shivered and started working with the article. His eyebrows rose up to his hairline as he read further.

"Thank Merlin for Harry Potter."

* * *

_Dear Aunt Petunia,_

_I hope that you are all fine. I am well as could be. Aunty, please stop hurting over the things that neither of us could change. I know that it may sound harsh but know that what is constant for me is that I love you all; you, Uncle Vernon and Dudley is my real family. I don't need to know any other truth that can trouble me. Just bury all those bad memories and I will do the same. Go home Aunt Petunia and live the life you have always wanted. I may not be able to be with you but just the thought that you are part of my life is enough for me. Just think that I am abroad, out of your reach but hoping that you'll remember me always. Any hope is better than none. I love you Aunty. _

_Love, _

_Hadrian_

_P.s. Please give these strawberry-flavored beans I really saved for Dudley. Stay in touch. Love you all. _

Petunia had to sit down as she read her nephew's letter. A vial fell out from the envelope and shattered on the floor, scattering glass shards and bluish liquid down to the wooden floor. But she paid no mind. She read the letter over and over again until she finally held it close to her chest and broke down in tears. She watched as the owl disappeared into nothing but a small dot in the afternoon sky. She wiped her tears and read the letter once again, paying close detail to Harry's florid cursive with all the 'connecting vines' as she call it and the 'curving loops'. She laughed at how she all noticed it when before she just took a really good look at Harry's writing when a teacher remarked that it was obvious even in his writing that Harry was an artist. Maybe she should notice more things. '_Go home Aunt Petunia and live the life you have always wanted' _

"I will Harry. I will."


	14. What I Can Do

**A/N: **

**XIV. What I Can Do**

**WOMAN WHO FELL ON THE VEIL FOUND ALIVE**

Molly immediately skipped the headlines and found the article she was looking for.

**CUSTODY OF THE BOY-WHO-LIVED ALREADY DECIDED**

**_After much deliberation from the Ministry of Magic's Magical Child Services (MCS) and the Wizengamot Committee on Pureblood Upbringing (CPU), it has been decided that the Dougherty family of Northern Ireland will have full custody of Hadrian Jacques Potter until he comes of age._**

The paper was soon crumpled and thrown in the middle of the dining table. Arthur signaled one of the twins to pick it and hand it to him. He straightened up the paper and started reading on the headlines.

"So Harry Potter is not living with us anymore?"

"If he's going to stay here, we won't be able to buy you new shoes Gin."

"Arthur! Why are you talking like that to our children?"

"Molly, I'm just being honest. We really don't have the money…"

"But Harry Potter is so rich he should also give us some of his money!"

"Ron! We are not asking money from anybody! We want to help the poor boy because he needs help."

"Molly, just cut this okay?"

"I will not! Who are those Doughertys anyway? I'm sure that they are just one of Malfoy's cronies!"

Arthur forcefully flipped the pages and started reading on the litany of praises about the Douhertys including the fame and wealth they had amassed over the years and when Arthur came on the part where it said that Ulrich Dougherty runs the Impecunious Fund, Molly suddenly paled. Arthur then dropped the paper and continued his meal. From then on, Molly did not even utter a word about the Boy-Who-Lived's new guardians.

* * *

At the Hogwarts Great Hall, two people at the Head Table were particularly grumpy. Dumbledore was implicated once again on a questionable issue. The article detailed on how a Muggleborn saw Mrs. Arabella Figg aka Adela Thompson on television and immediately recognized the old secretary of the head of Department of Mysteries who allegedly died after falling down the Veil. Dumbledore did not need to read further to know the other details. He flipped further and saw the article that caused his colleague's foul mood. McGonagall had not been chosen to take custody of Harry Potter so did five more families he recommended. This would just prove to be a challenge to Dumbledore. The Doughertys are quite stubborn, especially the patriarch, Absalom. They move on their own circle even if some Quidditch fanatics would say otherwise.

As Dumbledore turned to the student body; he saw that some students were really excited especially the Gryffindors. The prospect of Harry Potter being raised by a broomstick company owner is making their dreams for the Quidditch Cup go overdrive. Even the Slytherins seem to approve of the family choice but the Ravenclaws were still stuck on the frontpage and was giving Dumbledore speculative looks. 'Why don't they just let it rest?' Dumbledore just sighed and continued on his meal.

"Albus did you truly arranged for this?"

Dumbledore was about to give Professor Flitwick a biting retort when he saw that the article was different from the one he was thinking about. It was on the second page with a picture of Harry with his lightning bolt scar prominently displayed.

**ST. MUNGO'S RELEASES FINDINGS ABOUT THE FAMOUS SCAR**

* * *

"Only the scar died? Whoa."

"Enough with that Sid, Director Smith wants our team posted at Hogwarts while Dumbledore is being questioned."

"I thought we would be on the Daily Prophet offices?"

"Nah. Wiseman's uncle is one of the stockholders. Can't have him turn his wand on us when things get rough. C'mon! We'll be mashed if we're any later!"

The tall Auror left the cramped cubicle and briskly headed out of the Auror offices. The other Auror reluctantly put down his copy of the Daily Prophet and grabbed a cup of coffee instead before following his colleague out of the office.

Mad-Eye Moody just watched the two Aurors leave. He eyed the Daily Prophet and ambled towards the cubicle. He grabbed the newspaper, but not before dropping a ball-like contraption on the desk. Walking away with his head buried on the newspaper, he dropped another contraption on another cubicle. The contraption soon emitted smoke but then immediately dissipated. He did the same thing on every cubicle he passes by. Now, his new Aurors will know what Constant Vigilance means.

* * *

As Ulrich and Amandine Dougherty entered the room, only soft scratches of the quill could be heard. They turned to one corner and saw the boy; Harry's back was to them as he furiously wrote away using a green quill and a bound book that looked to be a journal.

"It's an exercise Healer Stillnight made him do, to express his emotions more effectively."

Amandine just smiled at what Healer Atkins had said. She had always wanted to have a son and now her wish is granted.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I just have to finish my journal entry."

"It's okay Hadrian. Can I call you Harry?"

Harry smiled congenially at the brunette woman and then nodded. She had been the first person in the wizarding world to ask for his permission to use that name. The wizarding world seems to have fixed assumptions about him. He wants to meet someone who had just 'known' him.

"You're such a sweet child."

"Harry?"

Harry just politely nodded at the tall blond man.

"I'm Ulrich Dougherty and this is my wife Amandine Dougherty. We are your new guardians."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ma'am, Sir."

"There's no need to be formal. We are basically your new parents now. You can call us Mother and Father if you want."

There was a hint of uncertainty in Ulrich's voice. The conversation itself felt too out of his comfort zone but seeing how happy his wife is, he thought that this is all worth it.

"Yes Father, Mother."

"Oh!"

Amandine engulfed Harry in a hug. Tears were freely flowing on her eyes. But there was a look of melancholy on Harry's face. Change felt so real now.

"We won't be able to bring you home today. The Healers want to give you a final scan and then you can come home tomorrow morning. But we brought with us our seamstress to fit you with a new wardrobe…"

"Ulrich that would have to wait later, we need to talk to our son first. I've read the article about your scar. Does it hurt or gives you headaches?"

Healer Atkins tried to intervene but Ulrich stopped him. Healer Atkins searched the man's countenance but found nothing there; it was his resigned sigh that explained everything for the healer.

* * *

"Adela Thompson worked in the Ministry from the year 1965 – 1974 at the peak of the war. She was a Level C employee first assigned as a clerk *crunch crunch* in the Ministry Archives but then promoted in 1969 under the recommendations of the Archiver, Elphias Doge who was Albus Dumbledore's childhood friend. Thompson was then *crunch crunch* transferred to the Department of Mysteries as the secretary to Director Algernon Rookwood who was later on convicted for being a Death Eater…Mom!"

"We would be having lunch Nymphadora, stop munching on that ice cube!"

Nymphadora Tonks (call me Tonks!) just groaned and took her seat on the round table.

"Dad, what do you know about Adela Thompson except for what is printed on the Daily Prophet?"

Ted Tonks seemed to think for a while, his fork suspended in the air as he stared at the ceiling. Andromeda immediately lowered his husband's fork with a huff.

"Oh yeah. She's in Hufflepuff too, a year ahead of me. She's average but quite poor in applied magic. Her parents works for one of Rookwood's businesses so I think that's how she got the job for I think that she's got no other connections. She only got three owls and that is in Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies. There are no career opportunities at all with that kind of results. How I know her results you ask? Her cousin, Abelard who was in Ravenclaw posted her OWL results on her usual seat in the Great Hall. She was totally humiliated…"

"That…was so mean. I mean they're cousins!"

Andromeda just stayed silent, knowing well how mean a family could get.

"Ya. Abelard's quite a nasty piece of work, became a Death Eater on his prime. Arabella got over the humiliation. She even told some Puffs that she'd be breeding kneazles when she graduate and she did just that but after a few years she suddenly came to work at the Ministry. I was still working there as clerk, when You-Know-Who was starting to get well-known. I once saw her at the cafeteria and tried to say hello, she snubbed me! And told me that I was below her level. Psk! I really want to yell at her and tell her that she's a 'Pureblood reject'! But I was civilized at that time so I just let her be."

Tonks laughed out loud at her father's words. Even Andromeda seemed to find humor on that statement.

"Hush you two. Teddy, how do you reckon she fell on the Veil? The paper seemed too keen on digging Dumbledore's dirt that they forgot about the real issue?"

Ted seemed to be lost in thought again.

"You were already five at that time Dora and I was out of the Ministry for four years. I could remember the Daily Prophet at that time printing an article about how Adela found out about Rookwood's being a Death Eater and Rookwood wanting to kill her without evidence, but I've heard some ridiculous talk at the Hog's Head's that Adela was at the pub three days prior. She was having lunch when Dumbledore suddenly arrived; sat on Adela's table and they started talking like they were old friends. That just doesn't make sense for I am sure that Dumbledore doesn't even know who Adela Thompson is. Then they started fighting. She was never seen again but then three days after the news broke."

"It's really curious."

"Indeed. No one really saw the incident except for Mad-Eye Moody and the late DMLE head Ramil Scrimgeour and the most curious thing is that I checked on the library for news archives and somehow there weren't any copy of the September 18, 1974 morning edition of the Daily Prophet. The evening edition did not even mention that anything went amiss that day."

"If this is just some ordinary lapse of an old man, then I'm not a Slytherin."

"You're a Slytherin Mom?"

"Shut up Nymphadora and help me with the dishes."

* * *

"You messed it up again Dumbledore!"

A huge crack went against the wood's grain as Dumbledore banged his hand on his desk. The whole Headmaster's Office shook with the force of raw magic. Fawkes, sensing danger flamed out of the room, leaving Dumbledore seething in anger as he stared at the list of messes he'd had to fix before his pedestal of greatness crumbles down into dust.


	15. It Was the Time

**XV. It Was the Time**

Minerva McGonagall observed Headmaster as he presided over the staff meeting. For the last three years the old man's mood had been a caustic whirlwind. He would always be on one of those moods where he would shake in rage and lose control of his magic. That sometimes, McGonagall would think that this person in front of her is not Albus Dumbledore.

She could understand that times had really been bad especially at the end of 1988, but Dumbledore had always emerged in one piece at all times. He had been able to wash his hands off the Adela Thompson case when it was proven that Mrs. Figg was indeed Mrs. Figg and not the former Ministry employee. The masses' respect and admiration to Dumbledore went back as he retold how he placed Arabella Figg to be an unobtrusive guardian to the Boy-Who-Lived and how the boy's aunt continually disregarded the safety of her ward. Though McGonagall was against how Dumbledore brought it up, she was also quite curious why, after the incident with Greyback, Petunia decided to relocate her family in Shrewsbury. Dumbledore emphasized that it was her way of celebrating her freak nephew's disappearance in their otherwise 'normal' life. McGonagall wanted to disagree but Harry never did comment against or in favor of Dumbledore's statement.

Harry Potter had also been an enigma for McGonagall. Eversince the boy's outburst in St. Mungo's, McGonagall was convinced that the boy wanted no part of the wizarding world but then he all of a sudden 'embraced' it without question. He also has the rare talent of defeating Dumbledore in his own game.

In a public event where the Doughertys were honored for their contribution in the construction of the first wizarding orphanage in Britain, Dumbledore made no effort to hide his displeasure in the Doughertys' refusal to grant the Weasley twins scholarship owing to how, even when Arthur was already employed in the Ministry and had only one son in Hogwarts had availed of the program. When Dumbledore particularly implied to Harry that it would be unfortunate to deprive less-fortunate children of the opportunity for education, Harry just answered in a very polite and innocent way that he had donated his Trust Fund to the cause to help all Pureblood, Half-Blood and Muggleborn children in orphanages with their Magical education. That was the best press the Boy-Who-Lived received next to his defeating the Dark Lord.

When the boy was asked about her aunt, the boy just answered that 'She's not part of our world' that statement made all the Purebloods tickle pink. Dumbledore can't comment that the boy was becoming dark and ungrateful to the person who raised him after the bad press he had previously subjected Petunia. And McGonagall can't forget the marriage contract Dumbledore forced the Weasleys to draft for their daughter Ginevra and Harry. It's a good thing Arthur and Molly outright refused it or else the Weasley family would be buried deeper into mud.

Dumbledore made a lot of mistakes in the past but it seems like he makes a lot of foolish mistakes when it comes to the Boy-Who-Lived. His interest on the boy could only be rivaled on his interest on finding out Tom Marvolo Riddle's real identity, even before he stepped into the Hogwarts Express. It seemed quite disconcerting…

"Minerva, are all the acceptance letters already sent and the schedule for the introduction of Muggleborns set?"

"Yes Albus. Everything's at hand."

McGonagall once more looked at her colleague and friend. What's really on his mind? What is he planning to the Boy-Who-Lived?

* * *

**DUMBLEDORE ELECTED THREE CONSECUTIVE TIMES AS CHIEF WARLOCK**

The newspaper was unceremoniously thrown into the crackling fire. Absalom Dougherty just watched as the flames engulfed the paper like the ebbing tide of the sea. He could see the hunger, the rage… He sighed deeply and leaned his head on his fist. The lines on his forehead were visible, even the sadness on those brown eyes before they were shot close.

The room was so silent only the crackling of the fire could be heard but it too slowly died down, leaving the desolate room filled with shadows. Absalom just remained seated behind his desk, his back heavily leaning on his seat as he contemplated on what to do next. Then he heard sharp tapping just ways away from his study. A small smile tugged on his lips and then he straightened up on his seat and started to write a missive.

_Dear Konstanz,_

_I know that you've been waiting for some news but Dumbledore stills moves in the sidelines the last notable event was when…_

* * *

_"I know people like you…I know what you want."_

"Have you heard that?"

Healer Kramer started when he realized that he was alone. He was walking on a grassy knoll overlooking a decrepit manor. He nervously turned around, but he was alone.

_"Do you really think that I'm forever gone? Do you think that I would really go down that easy?'_

"Who are you?! I'm warning you! I know a lot of Dark Magic to give you a gruesome end."

The bodiless voice suddenly laughed. Healer Kramer frantically turned around, his wand raise up in the air. The cool twilight breeze seems to carry the voice in an eerie echo. Healer pointed his wand towards the tall grasses at it swayed in the breeze but no one came out.

"_How daring of you my little soldier…"_

Healer Kramer shivered as cold wind touched his ear but it was replaced with dread when he heard the voice whisper directly into his ears.

"_Do you think that it's good enough to take down your master?"_

Healer Kramer's wand fell down on the ground. He was trembling in fear; his face was ashen. He suddenly grew rigid as he saw a dark shadow enveloping his arm, until it slowly crept up to his neck unto half of his face.

"_Answer me Kramer…answer me!"_

He was having hard time breathing. The dark specter seems to choke him. He wanted to run, to shout but he knew well that magical signature…

"Ye-yes Ma-mamas-"

Before he could finish, Healer Kramer's eyes rolled at the back of his head and he fell face first on the ground as the dark specter forced its way into his consciousness.

* * *

_How long have I been in this storm?_

_So overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form_

_Water's getting harder to tread_

_With this waves crashing over my head_

_If I could just see you_

_Everything will be alright_

_If I'd see you_

_This darkness would turn to light_

_And I will walk on water_

_And you will catch me if I fall_

_And I will get lost into your eyes_

_I know everything will be alright _

_I know everything is alright_

_I know you didn't bring me out here to drown_

_So why am I ten feet under and upside down?_

_Barely surviving has become my purpose_

_Because I'm so used to living underneath the surface_

_If I could just see you_

_Everything would be alright_

_If I'd see you_

_This darkness would turn to light_

_And I will walk on water_

_And you will catch me if I fall_

_And I will get lost into your eyes_

_I know everything will be alright _

_And I will walk on water_

_And you will catch me if I fall_

_And I will get lost into your eyes_

_I know everything will be alright _

_I know everything is alright_

_Everything's alright_

_Yeah, everything's alright*_

A pale finger fumbled for the rewind button but then sharp tapping could be heard from a nearby window. The finger rested on the button, unmoving. The tapping became more incessant and urgent. Then slowly, green eyes peeked from a long fringe of straight ebony hair. The eyes slowly examined the room. There was a fireplace from across, with the embers slowly dying out. The tapping continued on. The medium-sized figure leaned on the couch's armrest and peeked from his fringe unto the highly annoyed tawny owl perched by the window sill, carrying a huge envelop with the Hogwarts seal.

'The Hogwarts letter' Hadrian unenthusiastically thought. He turned and lay on his back, totally ignoring the bird. He swept the long fringe of hair from his face and stared blankly at the ceiling, his long hair fanning his delicate-looking face. If someone would see him at that moment, he could be mistaken for a porcelain doll with creamy, unblemished skin; long and wavy eyelashes; a straight nose and rosy lips. Hadrian could say that he is just one doll, cold and unfeeling but that would be a lie. He could still feel some piercing pain from deep inside. He once again fumbled for the rewind button and the song blared on his ears once again. He closed his eyes, and found himself in the middle of a raging storm. Waves were crashing all around him but he just ignored it as an image appeared in the middle of the storm – the image of his aunt.

* * *

Healer Smethyck winced as he watched the Mediwitch forced a vial of lilac-colored potion into the throat of the unconscious man. Why do they need to do this again? Or rather, why are they doing this? The man had long ago healed from his injuries. Even with the silver bullet lodged inside his body for several minutes, the werewolf was able to recover quite fast. But it had been three years…

"Aren't you going to scan him Healer Smethyck?"

"Yeah…"

As he waved, swished and flicked his wand, Healer Smethyck can't help but doubt his actions. 'For the Greater Good' yes, it's for everybody. He's a werewolf. How many people had he healed from being mauled and bitten by a werewolf? He's not a safe person to be around anyone, especially a child. Yes, he's dangerous.

Healer Smethyck continually recited that in his mind. He knows that there would be a time that he would be convinced that what he is doing is indeed right.

* * *

"Hadrian, you're turning eleven next week."

"Yeah, next Wednesday."

Hadrian mashed his food using the fork. He felt like not eating. He hasn't slept in his bed last night and the soft mattress seemed to be calling him forth. But one look at the worried house elf at his side made him think otherwise.

"The food's good Tad."

"Don't worry Hadrian, your mother and father will be here for the event."

"It's okay if they won't Grandpa, I don't want to disturb their vacation."

"Don't worry; they're not having a honeymoon or anything. They can go home any time."

"Must you say that Grandpa?"

"Why not?"

Hadrian just shook his head at the old man's antics. He bowed down his head to hide his smile but Absalom saw it anyway if his prolonged chuckles were any indication. The gentle tinkle of cutlery was the only audible sound for a while before Absalom picked an international newspaper from a stack neatly piled by the table's edge. **KRUM 13, JOINS VRASTA VULTURES**. Hadrian eyed the headlines interestingly with a photo of a short and sharp-featured teenager being accosted by reporters.

"I don't really want to go to Hogwarts Grandpa."

There was no response for a while as Absalom skimmed a Bulgarian article about his adoptive grandson.

"Remember what I told you about playing their games Hadrian."

"But sometimes I'm so tired that I just want to be like a wizarding chess piece that can walk out of the board and say 'I've had enough'."

"But then, where would that piece go? He has no use nowhere else than in the board, in the game with his court?"

There was silence. Hadrian just sat there, his gaze straight out into the window into the vast fields that was bordered with a thick wood.

"Remember not to be the pawn Hadrian."

Hadrian turned to the man he came to respect.

"Be the king, Hadrian. Be the king and let them scurry around to protect you."

* * *

The Malfoys sneered as they eyed a couple of Muggle families with their magical children being lead into a tour along Diagon Alley by the Muggle Studies Professor, Charity Burbage.

Muggleborns were sent their letter earlier and their introduction would now be scheduled in groups to ease them into the idea of another world. But the groups of Muggles going together like tourists had only caused the Pureblood's indignation to rise.

"I'm happy that Harry Potter did not really include those Mud…Muggleborns in his scholarship program or there'll be more of them this year."

"Shhhh…Just be quiet about it son. Not _everyone _actually knows that detail of the truth. Just let Dumbledore and those Muggle-loving fools like him to dream on."

Draco snickered at that and eyed the group of Muggles once more before they entered Gringotts. Three or four Muggleborns is still too much for him but he must endure their presence for the next seven years if not to prove how superior his blood is compared to theirs.

"Whoa! Look at that! A flying broom!"

Draco once more glared at the Muggles and entered Gringotts, pretending that those people did not really exist.

**A/N: *Lyrics from the song Storm by Lifehouse**


	16. What We Sow

**XVI. What We Sow**

"C'mon. Hurry! Hurry! We don't have time to spare!"

"We could've more time if you haven't brought Ginny along Mom!"

"Ron! Everybody's busy at home. We can't allow messing something if we want all your tuitions paid this year!"

The little girl, Ginny flushed at her mother's comment. She just continued following her harried mother down to the secondhand store. Her brother Ron seemed more excited than she could remember.

"If you just haven't sent Ron to Hogwarts then we would have more money to pay whatever!"

"What did you say?"

"You heard me…"

The two stopped near a decrepit store. Ginny crossed her arms around her chest and stood as tall as she could while trying to look defiant at her older brother.

"The twins deserve more to be at Hogwarts than you! But then you had to be special, wanting to be friends with Harry Potter."

"You shut up! You're just jealous you…"

"Ginny, Ron! What are you two up to! Hurry up! We have lots to do!"

"Yeah, like pack Dungbombs."

Mrs. Weasley sharply turned into the sneering voice's direction. There were two teenagers about thirteen passing by, probably from Knockturn Alley.

"Or rather make the Dungbombs itself and then pick rejected oranges from Muggle orchards and sell it."

"At least we're not slimy Slytherins like you two!"

"Ron, let's go. Ginny, hurry up!"

"We Slytherins? We're Ravenclaws, you idiot. Haven't you seen the crest on our robes? Or is your brain down with the dung Weasley?"

"Don't ever talk to my son like that!"

Mrs. Weasley whipped out her wand as fast as lightning but someone beat her to it and disarmed her. The plump woman was thrown into a nearby dumpster.

"What did you do to my mother?"

"It's a Disarming spell you Muggle!"

"What did you say?!"

Ron was about to lunge on the boy when the middle-aged man who disarmed Mrs. Weasley casted a Body Bind Hex on him.

"Must you goad them Francis, Ivor? I thought you know better than that."

"I just can't help it Dad. I know it's stupid to do but they're Dumbledore's lackeys. They always get out of their way to slander your boss."

"Francis."

"Francis is right Mr. Schroon; they are a disgrace to us Purebloods. They slander good working people while they lack the dignity of even a pauper."

Edgar Schroon did not comment on that and watched as Ginny helped Mrs. Weasley up. The woman looked older than her fifty years and her clothes were grimy and tattered. Edgar pities them, he does but he doesn't have the heart to help them. They're one big mess all because of Dumbledore.

"I'm sorry for that Mrs. Weasley but I appreciate if you won't draw your wand in offence in front of my minor son and his friend."

After saying this, Edgar put down Mrs. Weasley's wand on the cobble stone beside Ron, removed the body bind and led the two teenagers back to the busy part of Diagon Alley. Some people were watching the altercation and did not even pretend to not see anything. They were openly staring, not even bothering to help them.

"Well, won't you help us?"

The people just continued on their way as if they don't exist. A tear fell down on Mrs. Weasley's cheek as she leaned on a crate, her body still sore from being thrown almost two meters off the ground.

"Who was that man anyway? Who does he think he is?"

Ron just watched as the man and the two teenagers disappeared in the crowd. His face was flushed and his fist clenched.

"That was Edgar Schroon. H-he's the Falmouth Falcon's manager."

"Charlie's team?"

"Charlie had not been accepted yet Ginny. I think he won't be now…"

"It's their loss."

Ron did not comment on that as he watched as crowd suddenly gathered around something by the middle of the street. He climbed up on one of the crates to see that it was the Boy-Who-Lived. He looked so regal with his long hair tied near the ends with twined silver. He wore a frock coat as dark as his hair, accented by a deep blue cravat. He wore dragonhide boots and gloves that seem to meld on his limbs. He turned to Ron's direction and for a moment Ron thought that the Boy-Who-Lived was looking at him but then the boy's gaze was upon a portly man with a Daily Prophet reporter uniform. Ron tilted his head as he saw that almost half of the boy's face was covered with hair but upon seeing those intense green eyes he thought that it was so intimidating even from a distance. But his fist clenched once more as he saw Edgar Schroon shook hands with Absalom Dougherty and the two teenagers they had altercation with slightly bowed at the Dougherty patriarch as a way of greeting. He never felt so hopeless in his life than when one of the teenagers pointed his way.

* * *

"Hmmm…the Boy-Who-Lived had graced us with his presence."

"Really Lucius."

Narcissa continued on checking the sketches of new robe designs as Draco was being measured in one corner.

"He's good looking. Well the Rosiers are famed for having good looks. The Squib aunt though doesn't look good even in Muggle standards. And James wasn't bad looking either, with the Black blood in his veins."

"Well, the boy's lucky that he did not inherit that infernal hair."

"That isn't possible Lucius. Haven't you noticed how James would bulk up and slim down faster than is normal?"

"You're not saying?"

"It used to be a prominent Black attribute but it slowly became a fluke. I was tad bit disappointed when Draco hasn't got it and my sister's Halfblood daughter is flaunting her Metamorphagus ability like it's just nothing. James on the other hand used it like a true Slytherin. He just kept that form by second year because he doesn't want any other girls attracted to him. He got it bad on Rosier since the first train ride. I actually saw his true form, when he was eight."

"And how did you know about this dear? Why not tell me?"

"Sirius told me. He actually trusted me before I was betrothed to you. Only Sirius Orion Black knows anything and everything about James Charlus Potter."

"And what else do you know?"

"Are you really a Slytherin, Lucius Malfoy?"

Lucius gave his wife a hard look but the latter was busy flipping on the brochure.

"Suit yourself woman."

Unbeknownst to them, Draco was listening intently on his parent's conversation. He never knew that detail about the Black family. Her mother used to tell him a lot of stories about her childhood as a Black but he noticed that her mother's pride on the family lost its luster when Walburga Black died when he was nine. Then he just learned that James Potter was also a Black and the familial gift… How he wished he also have it, just something for his mother to be proud of.

He gave Madam Malkin's assistant a hard glare as she poked him with a pin. He could feel the woman trembling in fear. He was about to give a biting comment when he heard a commotion just outside the store. Harry Potter was waving at the crowd as he headed to Gringotts with Absalom Dougherty. Before the Boy-Who-Lived turned, Draco could swear he saw a sly smirk on the boy's lips. It was the first time that he actually saw Hadrian up close and he was quite impressed. Hadrian Jacques Potter is one person Draco is dying to meet. He would do everything just to gain the boy's approval.

* * *

"Hmphf! This place is such a huge carnival! Can those people make any more of a fool of themselves?!"

Neville did not comment and just stayed close to his grandmother, wary of the huge crowd. He eyed the Muggle-dressed people and then some witches and wizards hurrying along with their errands. He had never seen such a busy and huge crowd before.

"Come on Neville, we would go and greet Absalom and Hadrian."

"W-we will go see Harry Potter?"

"Call him Hadrian, Neville. A Pureblood should be addressed on their proper name. And what are you fidgeting about? He'd attended your birthday last year. You are some of the few children your age who could say that you know the Boy-Who-Lived personally. Hurry along or you'll get lost in the crowd."

Neville just followed his grandmother but deep inside he was trembling in fear. He is sure that Har-Hadrian won't give him the time of the day after he humiliated himself on his own birthday. Hadrian arrived at the Longbottom Manor with his house elf a bit late. Augusta pushed him forward none to gently and ordered him to greet their guest but in Neville's haste, his shoelaces came untied and as he was about to welcome Hadrian he fell face down unto the ground. That was the most embarrassing moment of his life ever.

"Absalom, Hadrian. I see that you have also come early for Hogwarts shopping."

"Augusta, it's been a long time since we've seen each other. And this must be Neville. Good day to you two and yes, we're one of the early birds I can say. *chuckle* I'll be busy with the eliminations for the World Cup next month and I can't miss my grandson's first Hogwarts shopping for the entire world."

Augusta made a self-satisfied look as Absalom said the last statement. Absalom understood her implied meaning and thankfully nodded at her direction.

"It's nice to see you Lady Longbottom, Neville. I could also see that it had been a long time. Have you received my letter three months ago Neville? I thought that you'd be interested on the plant I discovered but you did not reply."

Neville just bowed down, red in the face. He could feel his grandmother's burning look upon the side of his head. He received the letter alright but he thought that Hadrian was just having him on after the humiliation he subjected himself during his birthday party.

"Don't worry much Neville…"

Electricity seemed to travel along Neville's skin as Hadrian patted his shoulder. He can't help but look up at Hadrian and he can see the sincerity on the other boy's expression. But he could've been imagining it for it immediately disappeared to be replaced by the usual aloof and cold expression on Hadrian's face.

"But I think this talk will need to be done some other time. Good day to you Lady Longbottom, Neville."

Absalom nodded his farewell as he and his grandson headed to Gringotts. Augusta roughly guided Neville towards Gringotts' direction but Neville did not even notice. He felt like…like he lost something very important.

* * *

"_Come here.__"_

Madam Pomfrey slowly trailed her eyes from left to right, looking for the source of the hissing sound. It's still the middle of the day but the Forbidden Forest is a host of very unpredictable and very dangerous creatures. She covertly fumbled for her wand on her apron's pocket but before she could fully bring it out, it was forcefully ripped from her hand. The last thing she saw was her wand zipping towards a thicket of trees.

"_My thoughts exactly…_"

"Who's there? Show yourself."

"_Are you suuure?__"_

"Mad-Eye, is that you? I've got no time for your Constant Vigilance bullshit!"

Madam Pomfrey bent down to pull some soft herbs and shoved the specimens on a small sack. She heard another hissing sound but still found no one.

_"__Do it fast! I can't wait anymore!_"

"Give me my wand back Alastor or else!"

As if on cue, the reddish-brown wand flew towards her direction but before Madam Pomfrey could raise her hand to grab her wand, a jet of green light suddenly emanated from the wand's tip. The last thing that Madam Pomfrey saw was a pair of blood-red eyes then everything was gone.


	17. What We Need

**A/N: I'm sorry about the confusion. I edited the chapters starting Chapter 12 and put a single line in-between the diff POVs. I actually put lines while I was encoding this in Word but then...well, they disappeared. Bwaha. How stupid of me. So here it is...**

* * *

**XVII. What We Need**

_Dear Harry,_

_It's you're eleventh birthday! I can't believe it! You're growing up too fast. Dudley was super embarrassed when I cried during his party. But hey, you can't blame me. You're so big now (especially Dudley). I'm so proud that you have become quite a wonderful and brilliant lad. I know this year is the start of something important to you. All I want is for you to enjoy this experience. You are only a child once. Be happy and free and don't let other's opinion rule your life. Remember that Vernon, Dudley and I always loves you. Happy birthday._

_Love,_

_Aunt Petunia_

_P.S. I hope you like the gift. But it's technically not from me. Your grandfather sneaked inside St. Mungo's when you were born and put this necklace on your neck but your mother was quite upset with him and your grandmother at that time. She ripped it and threw it away. But the other day I saw it on the attic, on the box containing your baby things. I think it's time that it returns to you. _

Hadrian crumpled the paper and it soon burned down on his hands. The ashes weightlessly floated in the air. Hadrian opened his clinched fist making all the ashes fly up in an eerie rain of grey snow. At the middle of his palm was a dice-sized cube connected to a silver chain. The cube itself was all black with a cross segment that can be turned to different directions very similar to that of a Rubik's cube. Hadrian knows what it is but he is quite uncertain if his Aunt is really sure what the significance of this necklace is. When they went to Gringotts to claim the Rosier fortune, the account manager asked for something whatever that something is. It's supposed to be the only thing that can open not the vault but something that his grandfather put inside the vault. Alfonse stipulated on his will that only the one who's in possession of that thing would be able to access the vault. It was said to be the reason why Alfonse was killed by his own cousin.

Hadrian observed the cube earnestly before he clicked the chain open and wore it around his neck. Nothing changed but it seemed that there was a magical pulse coming from the cube. It slowly turned to the right then down before it settled down. Hadrian could see in his mind's eye the runes that were slowly etched on the cube's surface. Hadrian's eyes widen and tears started to fall on his eyes. It's for him – for him only and his grandfather died all just because of it and his mother… He furiously wiped his tears away and stared blankly at the multitude of guests that was already gathered on the pavilion that was especially set for this occasion.

He walked across his room and headed to his en-suite bath. He purposely headed to the full-length mirror and stared at his reflection for a long time. Soon his hair grew shorter and the strands started arranging themselves into a slick crop hairstyle. Soon the blackened lightning bolt scar and the startling Avada Kedavra eyes were visible for all to see. He straightened up his military-style deep red dress robes. He looked at his right hand and three rings became visible. One was the Potter headship ring with a red stone mounted on silver shaped like sinewy branches which joins the gold band of the ring in a swirl of color. Next was the Edmonds headship ring. It was a signet ring with the family crest and the family motto engraved inside and out of the ring. The last one was the Evans headship ring. It was a gimmal ring, two interlocking rings made of two different kinds of gold. It actually represents the merging of the Evans family and an unknown Russian wizarding family. Alfonse Evans was a man of many secrets which his namesake, Alfonse Rosier seemed to inherit and now it is passed down to the present generation. Hadrian looked at his reflection once more before he headed to the door, to present to the world the progeny of these powerful families.

* * *

Ulrich could see that his wife is worrying once again. She attended to the guests like a good hostess would but her gaze keeps on darting to the direction of the manor. Hadrian had been subdued since they arrived from their vacation, saying that he doesn't want to go to Hogwarts. He either. He went to Durmstrang himself. Hogwarts had lost its prestige in the past decades even to the absolute denial of wizarding Britain. But he can't send his son to Durmstrang – it would be a nightmare for everyone. He thought of sending him to the Americas but he doesn't like how wizards and witches there disregard tradition. Hogwarts is the best option; the only option if you ask others.

He observed all the guests. They never had this much people on Hadrian's birthday before. Hadrian doesn't want his birthday to be turned into so-called 'political parties' after he saw it happen on Absalom's birthday party. He wants his birthday to be intimate; only with his 'family'. Ulrich and Amandine actually enjoys those parties but today is Hadrian's eleventh birthday. For an heir like Hadrian, the eleventh birthday is like a 'rite of passage' wherein his training on being the next head of the family would begin. Ulrich is actually not looking forward to it. Hadrian is the head of multiple families; acting as a proxy on those Wizengamot seats is a breeze compared to auditing tons of liquid assets and assorted properties; much more teaching an eleven year-old to manage all of that. Ulrich was about to summon Hadrian's personal elf, Tad to call Hadrian down to open the party when he heard people gasp.

Walking towards their direction was no other than Hadrian; but he looked quite different and more confident. A small smile appeared on Ulrich's lips. He immediately steered his slightly stunned wife to meet Hadrian halfway to the pavilion's entrance.

"Happy birthday son."

* * *

Dumbledore was getting impatient. It came as a surprise to him when he received an invitation for Harry's eleventh birthday. He was never invited before but his he arrived early and was surprised when saw the other guests. The Doughertys were truly making a statement that they are a neutral family – well, _they _don't include Harry of course. Dumbledore saw the Bulstrodes, the Parkinsons, the Woods and the Notts. As other guests arrived, his suspicions were proven correct as the Malfoys came in and chatted with Ulrich for quite some time. But what made him impatient was that the party was not yet starting and he could see that there are still guests arriving. 'Have they invited the entire wizarding Europe?' Dumbledore grumpily thought as the Albanian Minister for Magic arrived. It was certainly a huge and grandiose party that even Narcissa Malfoy felt out of place. It's a political party or rather, as Dumbledore wanted to call it as 'statement party'. The Doughertys want to tell the world that 'we're very powerful so don't mess with us.' Madam Maxime was making a comment on the same line of thought while Priscilla Myers, the London Magical Academy's Headmistress was still stuck on the topic of Madam Pomfrey's mysterious disappearance. Dumbledore was about to storm out the venue and face Hogwarts' resident nagger when the crowd was suddenly drawn to the entrance of the pavilion. He could hear many people gasp.

"Oh, such a good-looking young man."

Madam Maxime's comment made Dumbledore turn to the pavilion's entrance. Without knowing it, his feet slowly led him in front of the crowd with his drink loosely on his hand.

"Happy birthday son."

Is this young man really Harry Potter? Dumbledore eyed the three headship rings on the boy's fingers and can't help but grit his teeth on the sight. When the Doughertys were done with their greetings, they faced the crowd and Hadrian officially welcomed the guests to his party. Dumbledore had to navigate his way around the crowd that wanted to get to the boy first. But before Dumbledore could reach the boy, he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder.

"Dumbledore."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy observed as the scene unfolded. People were stumbling on their own feet just to shake the Boy-Who-Lived's hand. He quirked one perfectly-shaped eyebrow as the boy half-heartedly shook the hand of Augusta Longbottom's grandson and nodded his dismissal before shaking the hand of Amos Diggory. Dumbledore seemed to be caught up in a conversation with the Dougherty patriarch and an elderly blond man Lucius had once seen in passing. Lucius straightened his robe and nodded to his wife's direction before gently pushing his son in the back.

"A Happy birthday to you, Mr. Potter. The entire Malfoy family is ever grateful for your invitation. I am Lucius Malfoy, the head of the family and this is…my wife Narcissa and my son Draco."

As the boy relinquished his grip on Lucius hand and kissed the back of Narcissa's hand, Lucius can't help but smirk in satisfaction at the words that the boy uttered.

"It's nice to finally meet you."

* * *

"He hasn't recognized you."

"Indeed."

Bluish smoke emerged from the blond man's pipe and formed into an outline of a galloping unicorn before it slowly dissipated into thin air. The man shook his long and bristled blond hair to dispel the smoke that accumulated in it and took another puff on his pipe. His gaze lingered to Dumbledore's direction. The old headmaster on the other hand was eyeing Hadrian who was still entertaining some guests, five tables away.

"You think it's really him? He should've recognized me then. It hasn't been such a long time since we fought the war together."

"It's Dumbledore alright. But there's something different with him now. He's not the man you knew before Kon."

The blond man just made a noncommittal grunt. Absalom turned to his grandson's direction and sighed as he saw a couple introduce their teenage daughter to Hadrian. He could clearly see the girl's lust-filled gaze to Hadrian even from across the room. Hadrian just politely made conversation and then excused himself.

"Alastor Moody recognized you though."

The blond man surreptitiously observed Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody from the corner of his eyes. The old Auror's magical eye was twirling maniacally in its socket as it observed the guests.

"Who would invite Mad-Eye Moody in a children's party?"

"I did. Konstanz, I did."

* * *

"Have you enjoyed your party?"

Hadrian just tiredly smiled but did not stop writing. Amandine conjured a chair and sat beside the desk, facing Hadrian. She lovingly combed the now long and flowing hair.

"I've always wanted you to have that hair. I want to see you with your father's hair."

Hadrian's hair slowly shortened and turned into shaggy, ash blonde locks. The two laughed together as Hadrian transformed his face to totally look like Ulrich. Hadrian's hair then lengthened and turned light brown. His face contorted into an angry face of one Amandine Dougherty.

"Oh no! I have a daughter now!"

"Haha... How funny of you Mother."

Hadrian picked up his purely black quill, dipped it into ink and started another line on his journal. Amandine tried to read the upside-down words but Hadrian's florid writing style makes it difficult to decipher at that angle; the upside-down letters actually resembles other letters but the words formed were all gibberish.

"So, while I'm trying to read a text in Mermish, why don't you tell me what you think of the people you met in the party?"

Hadrian just smiled behind the fringe of hair that almost totally covered his face. No one could ever stop Amandine Dougherty when she wants to know something. She could've been a Ravenclaw if she went to Hogwarts. Hadrian lowered his quill and smiled at his mother.

* * *

"Don't let him get away!"

"Come back you thief!"

Shouts and barking of dogs broke the silence of the open fields. A man heavily leaned on the stack of hay bales with three chickens on his grasp. He looked sickly and quite restless. He was trembling and his limbs would jerk from time to time. He looked up at the darkening skies; the full moon was already peeking on the horizon.

"Please Merlin. Please. Please!"

The man tightly held his wounded ankle with his other hand and took calming breaths. He shakily stood up and closed his eyes as he disappeared with a loud pop.

"Tim! Have you got the kid's food?"


	18. The Complicated World

**XVIII. The Complicated World**

"Why are they doing this to us? We did nothing wrong to them!"

"Mom, I think it's not about the incident at Diagon Alley."

"Then what? What else could it be? They're all treating us like we're no more than mud on their shoes!"

Mrs. Weasley furiously wiped her tears with her dirty apron. The twins were busy in the background packing Dungbombs inside a segmented flat wooden box while Ron and Ginny were scooping Stink Pellets and placing them into small sack bags. Charlie watched them for a moment before he scooped down his jacket and headed out of what was once his father's workshop.

"Charlie! I'm still talking to you don't turn your back on me!"

Charlie hasn't gone far with his limping foot. He exasperatedly turned back, facing his mother with a long-suffering look. He looked quite rugged with his tousled hair, collection of scars, unkempt clothes and holey trainers. He sighed as he saw his mother's determined look.

"C'mon, let's face it. I'm out of shape. The last time I played was nine years ago. I'm not that fit anymore."

"That's bullshit!"

Charlie just gave Ron a pointed look and turned back to Mrs. Weasley.

"I can't just do this. The Falcons' isn't the first team I tried out for. Maybe this isn't just for me. I'm too old for this. I shouldn't have resigned from the Reserve."

Mrs. Weasley just watched Charlie go. The only noise was coming from the wooden boxes being stacked haphazardly. Even Ron was silent. He seemed to be lost in thought.

"Ron, the bag is already full! You're wasting it!"

* * *

The storm was the strongest that he could remember; the waves that crashed on his feet did not leave behind a trail of frothing water but of crackling ice. There was a deep feeling of melancholy all over and as the ice started to crawl on his feet, Absalom disappeared out of thin air.

"Where did you put your memories?"

Hadrian did not answer and just smiled as he concentrated on polishing a blood-stained arrow. Absalom gracefully walked towards the table and leaned both his hands at the surface of the table. He intently watched Hadrian who was sporting long honey-blond hair.

"Did you store it inside your Muggle contraptions?"

Hadrian snorted but just continued on what he was doing. He was now picking up another equally blood-stained arrow and started cleaning its rumpled vane.

"Good. You are not allowed to bring those things to Hogwarts…"

There was no answer so Absalom continued. "And you must store them away I don't want your parents especially your mother…"

"I threw them away Grandpa."

Absalom gave Hadrian a hard look. The boy just looked at him with a cold look that his blue eyes looked like shards of ice.

"I'm not a Muggle Grandpa. I've got no use for them."

Absalom straightened himself and motioned to walk across the room once more. He took a few steps but stopped and questioned Hadrian with his back turned.

"So where do you hide your memories? Under the water? In the sky? _Legilimens!"_

Hadrian was surprised on the sudden attack. Absalom immediately entered his mindscape and looked around, amidst the rolling waves when he heard something. It was a song.

_And I will walk on water_

_And you will catch me if I fall_

_And I will get lost into your eyes_

_I know everything will be alright _

_I know everything is alright_

Absalom treaded the water, looking for the voice source but as the song continued, an image suddenly appeared; it was the image of a young Petunia with her long curly hair being flown by the wind. Her eyes were full of despair.

"_And I will get lost into your eyes…"_

Absalom started at the realization of what that line meant but it was too late for he had already stared into two icy blue orbs.

_I know you didn't bring me out here to drown_

_So why am I ten feet under and upside down?_

The icy cold water bathed Absalom as he was being pulled by an unseen force down into the water.

_Barely surviving has become my purpose_

_Because I'm so used to living underneath the surface_

Suddenly, he could feel arms wrapping around him and to his horror found the young Petunia embracing him tightly and singing the song to him with such melancholy. Absalom tried to break free but Petunia's hold on him was so tight. They were falling for quite some time but Absalom can't still see the bottom. Absalom found it hard to breathe and he can no longer move. His ears were ringing but he could hear the song like it was being whispered right to his ears.

_Everything's alright_

_Yeah, everything's alright_

Then something clicked into Absalom's mind; _everything's alright._ As this thought came into his mind, he found himself treading on calm waters, with Petunia still standing across him. Then she turned from him and walked away, treading into an infinite distance. It was then that Absalom realized what everything meant. The song was not for Hadrian, it was for Petunia. It was for her, to lull her into continuous reassurance that she was needed – that she is not alone.

_How long have I been in this storm?_

_So overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form_

_Water's getting harder to tread_

_With this waves crashing over my head_

It was then that Absalom felt some magical flow leaving Hadrian's mindscape. He conjured the entity of Petunia the way he conjured flowers from a magical painting – he gave it life. As the entity of Petunia left, Hadrian's deep seated memories left with her for there's no way she would let Hadrian into harm. And the storm itself was the representation of his deep emotions; its shapelessness and strong force would overwhelm and drown you. 'What a complicated mind. You cannot enter a mind within a mind.' Absalom thought and no sooner he felt himself let out of the mindscape.

Absalom once again found himself in the drawing room. He continued on his steps and headed directly outside. He felt good being out of the storm.

* * *

Timothy Wragner – no, he's just Tim. He has no family, no friends except his packmates. He doesn't need other people except for them. He bowed his head low, hiding his look of sadness with the matted fringe of blond hair. He forcefully shoved the cold and lumpy food inside his mouth. It left a tangy aftertaste. He isn't quite sure what he is eating; all he cares about is that it is edible and freely given. 'Better than nothing' he thought. Just then, a child's cry could be heard. He turned to see one of the children sitting on the floor; his bowl of food was spilled on the floor after another child accidentally jostled it.

"It's okay Kevin, we'll just reheat it."

An older boy scooped the yellowish lump of food from the floor and put it inside a pan with lukewarm water.

"Mr. Moony, could you make a fire for us? Kevin's food needs to be reheated."

A tall and lanky man with graying hair appeared from inside one of the two rooms in the decrepit house. Tim made sure not to make eye contact with the man. His heightened senses could still feel and hear the man moving about the house but he won't look at him directly. 'Mr. Moony' that's how he's called by the other new werewolves but Tim knew better than that. He's probably the oldest one in the group under Moony's care. Most were children under 13 and majority of them are Muggles with 2 Muggleborns and one Halfblood. The two adults were not newly bitten but Moony took them under his wing for some reason and they were Muggles too. Only he knew who Remus Lupin is and he was quite surprised when he found out at first.

It was six months after the incident in Keswick and he had just fully recovered. He tried to escape, to find his family but when he finally came home he found the house empty. His parents were out working; the only one there was their house elf Millie. She shrieked upon seeing him, telling him that he's a monster and that he should not go near her 'family'. It would be a lie if he said that those words didn't affect him – it hurt him badly. He went upstairs to his room to find it empty, all his things were gone. When he went to the kitchen, he found a copy of the Daily Prophet and there he found the picture of the man that had taken care of him for the last month or so. **REMUS LUPIN STILL IN COMA**. It could be wrong. Moony was just fine. He had been with them… but then this Remus is different from their Moony in some ways. Remus looks much older, much leaner and their countenance seemed different. Moony is a positive person; Remus just seemed lost.

He confronted Moony about it one time.

_"I was brewing Wolfsbane at that time, at my best friend's potion laboratory. I was already at the bottling stage when fumes suddenly started to steam from everywhere then I felt being ripped apart. The sensation was very different from apparition; it felt like every part of my being was being was being shredded. It was very painful, much painful than changing every full moon… then I suddenly woke up. People I know were no longer around. My best friend dead, my godchild does not exist. It was a different world…and they say that I was supposedly in St. Mungo's but I cannot understand…"_

Tim could feel Moony looking at him from behind. It's either Moony is one nutjob or he's one great impostor. Who in the wizarding world doesn't know that James and Lily Potter are dead and that they don't have a daughter named Camellia? He's a scary man. But he's quite a mystery for Tim, but not in the same rank as the mystery of where Reginald Allen had gone to. There are some things he has to know, some things he should forget… he looked down at his arm and into one of his many scars. It's not the same scar he had three years ago. It was a scar from his father just a year ago – a scar from a wound that's much more painful than the others but he can manage. He has Loony Moony to occupy his mind.

* * *

Diagon Alley was less crowded that day in the first week of August. Almost every Hogwarts student had finished their shopping and only regular patrons were roaming around the alley. Charity Burbage sighed in relief when the arch opened and he found the alley almost empty. This would be the last batch of Muggleborns to be introduced into the wizarding world. These were the most hesitant group and just sent their answers in the last minute. Professor Burbage had met a lot of Muggleborns with the same situation before and she quite understand their hesitance that sometimes she is just tempted to tell them to stay in their world rather than be ridiculed in the biased world of magicals.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley. This is wizarding Britain's main shopping center. Here you could buy all you would need for Hogwarts and everyday life in a magical household…"

As Professor Burbage droned on, Hermione Granger chatted on with her new acquaintance. Darren Fitzgerald seemed like a nice guy but somewhat reserved and uncomfortable with the magical world. So Hermione tried to ease his feelings even if her nerves were on overdrive at the thought of entering in a world she is so ignorant of.

"I think I like the Ravenclaw house so far. How about you?"

Darren did not answer; instead, he was looking on the moving pictures of the newspaper.

"Who is that Hadrian Potter character? His face is virtually splashed all over the paper. He seemed no older than us."

Suddenly, a man who was looking on the paper sneered at their direction and spat on the ground, mouthing something at his companion who also spat on the ground and abruptly left.

"That was rude. C'mon Darren, we are way behind our guide."

But Darren was rooted on the spot, his gaze still on the moving picture of Hadrian. He can't believe that he will find Hadrian easily in this world. 'He's famous!' Darren's can't seem to process that thought easily. The picture-Hadrian looked at him and slightly raised his eyebrow before smirking at his direction and then turning his attention to another photographer. Darren hurried towards his parents who were now examining some cauldrons. He can't wait to tell Samantha about this!


	19. What the Winds Bring

**A/N: I finally updated after quite some time. Iactually wrote the epilogue first so that I won't get sidetracked on writing details that won't add up to the story's conclusion. But I did not finish it either. Bwaha. **

**XIX. What the Winds Bring**

"It is indeed very fortunate for us that you applied for this position Healer Kramer. We were worried that a year would come by and the children will be left without proper medical attention."

"It's my great pleasure Professor McGonagall. I've always wanted to work in an institution like this and now I have the opportunity…"

McGonagall doubted the sincerity of the healer's words. She is sure that his interest would have something to do with a certain green-eyed boy. It had been no secret that the healer had made attempts on executing some questionable experiments on the boy while he was admitted at St. Mungo's. It was immediately found out by Kramer's colleague but was hushed up. It was only revealed after the healers many failed attempts on performing examinations on the boy in the past two years. Well, 'attempt' being the keyword for it seems that you can't catch the boy off guard even in his sleep. Healer Kramer had then been on probation after Hadrian mentioned it to his foster father that the healer was stalking him. Ulrich wanted St. Mungo's to recall any pertinent documents that the healer has of his son but even the hospital's administration isn't aware of the extent of the healer's tests on the boy. The Daily Prophet article had long been refuted by the hospital; but they did disclose that it was Dumbledore who ordered for an examination.

"And we are very lucky for that Healer Kramer. But for now, let's have some tea then I will show you to the infirmary and the adjoining office so that you can settle down before the children arrive tomorrow."

Healer Kramer just nodded in acceptance. Just a split second, as McGonagall called for her house elf, a glint of red could be seen from the healer's eyes. Lulled by the security that the supposedly 'safest building in England' offered, McGonagall did not even test the healer for any presence of evil. He just smiled politely and made small talk with his former teacher, with plots of vengeance behind his mind.

:

…

:

"It's here son."

Ulrich presented Hadrian a flat box. Hadrian sat on the couch and gently opened the box to reveal a strange-looking wand. Even Ulrich eyed the wand with much skepticism; the wood was from a prehistoric relative of the devil's snare preserved in the permafrost. Hadrian discovered it a year ago after Amandine's father Alaric brought him along on a mammoth-hunting expedition.

Mammoth teeth are prized by Rune Masters, especially from those mammoths that lived in what Muggles dub as the early Ice Age era. Those teeth are used as ambient magic stabilizers and they practically perpetuate any wards but it can only be used once – making it very valuable. After a rune is etched into it and activated, it can't be destroyed nor altered. It's a treasure on its own and Alaric had long been itching to have one.

Ulrich suspects that Alaric brought Hadrian along because of his son's special ability to 'feel' things. Knowing his father in-law's lifelong dream, Ulrich agreed and crossed his fingers on the issue. But he did not expect for Hadrian to…to be into it that much. At first look, Hadrian is one Pureblood bred and raised amidst the clouds. He moves with a natural grace that makes him look like a delicate ceramic. But as it turned out, the boy was a fierce hunter. During their first day, Hadrian caught three narwhals using ordinary bow and arrow. Narwhals are considered 'aquatic unicorns' and have lots of uses in potions. Then on the second day, Hadrian found this strange plant.

It was a huge woody vine with a body resembling tentacles with suckers and all. But the Archeo-herbologist explained that the indentations on the _hell vine_ were where spikes filled with poison grow. The plant would launch its spikes whenever there's a threat. It can only grow back its spines three times and after all the spines are gone, the plant would slowly die. Hadrian's wand was actually from the hell vine's roots. He was offered any part of the plant before it would be brought to the ICW Magical Laboratories for further tests but Hadrian chose the root for reasons that baffled everyone. Some vines still have spikes and the vine's wood would be good for making chests and trunks but Hadrian chose the soft, knarled and…is that white mold? Ulrich's brows furrowed as Hadrian started polishing the 10 inch long piece of root. The moldy surface soon gave way to a white wood with light purple veins sporadically appearing on some areas. Ulrich was about to ask Hadrian if he could examine the wand closely when the boy spoke.

"The plant was in dormant stage but it won't be able to regenerate after its long dormancy. All its poison was kept on its roots as a final resort if ever someone tries to uproot it. It would bleed poison on the soil but because of the ice, it was unable to do so. It kept all its poison in a bulb-shaped chamber just above this piece of root. So, all of the plant's poison is in my wand after the bulb was cut down. I mixed it with my magical signature so that only I could touch the wand."

Ulrich retracted his hand and hid it inside his robes pockets. He was now eyeing the piece of wood as if it's the last thing he'd want to see. Why did his father warn them against getting a wand from Ollivanders again? He can't seem to recall the logic behind it. He would face the creepy wandmaker any day over this.

"So that's why you warned the people from the Department of Underage Magic Control not to touch your wand. But…what's its core and it doesn't have any runes…"

The word 'skeptical' would not be enough to describe Ulrich's feelings towards that 'wand'. Absalom just said that as long as Hadrian won't explode any heads in Hogwarts, the wand would be just alright. The old man did not even ask on how Hadrian made such a wand. He just trusted the boy somehow. Even the thought that Hadrian can do wandless magic did not appease Ulrich. They had long ago warned Hadrian about using it in public. Teachers at Hogwarts, especially Dumbledore had localized wards that determine the source of any magical output. This is to prevent other students from jinxing or even doing other's work for them. Ulrich doubts though if the teachers do anything about the information they get from the wards. He had once interviewed Francis Schroon, the son of Absalom's employee; he asked him about the certain security features available in Hogwarts. The boy seemed surprised and quite intrigued for he never had knowledge of such wards and believes that they don't exist if the resident Potions Master's behavior is any indication. But if they find out that Hadrian is not using a magical focus…

"Grandpa Alaric actually put runes in it. You can't just see it. The wood absorbs any magic directed to it and I sealed it using my own magic. This wand is actually…like me."

Ulrich's eyes softened at that statement. They had once been curious why Healer Kramer was so interested on their son and when they found out, they immediately Obliviated it out of the healer's mind. His eyes still twitch every time he remembers how he and his father broke in the healer's office and then at his house just to get all the data regarding his examinations on Hadrian's core. Such knowledge is so dangerous if it lands on the wrong hands.

Ulrich put an arm on the boy's shoulder. Hadrian had been the son he had always wanted but the boy was so fragile emotionally. His powers had limitations but it's not the limitations that trouble him but his capabilities overwhelm him to the point that he totally suppressed his capability to sense people's thoughts and emotions. Trying to control it had been a slow coming since no one in the family has such an ability but as Hadrian was exposed to more people, he learned to turn his 'senses' on and off at will.

"Well, why don't you give it a try?"

Did he really say those words? Ulrich fumbled for his wand, thinking of putting up a shield before anything explodes when Hadrian tapped his wand on the coffee table and it turned into stone. Ulrich let go the breath he did not realized he was holding back and leaned on the couch opposite Hadrian. He was about to congratulate Hadrian when the boy turned to him with a perplexed look.

"Father, I can't turn it back."

:

…

:

"Have we really done it Lucius?"

Lucius stood from his seat and poured on another bottle of his favorite wine. The wine glass fogged as the in-built Cooling Charm literally worked its magic.

"Why are you asking such a thing Severus? It had been more than two years since we accomplished the task. Why doubt our endeavors now?"

Snape just stared at the fire. Two words were playing on his mind over and over again; 'Cup, Diary'. He seemed not at ease on the idea that they were able to destroy such artifacts without any difficulty. It isn't just right.

"Dumbledore says that the boy could be a horcrux."

Lucius looked intrigued but deep inside his mind was on overdrive.

"You mean to say…"

"He can use the boy's body. If the Dark Lord's soul that is inside that boy, overpowers the boy's own soul…he could take total control…"

"Why haven't you told me about this before?"

"Dumbledore likes to talk in riddles, Lucius. Remember, how he wants to deny the existence of the horcruxes at first… He's the kind of man that wants to be in control Lucius; he doesn't want surprises."

"This would destroy some of my plans…"

"But Lucius…"

Lucius threw the bottle of wine towards the fire but he was caught by the urgency of Snape's voice. He summoned the bottle back to his hands mere moments before the fire engulfed it.

"Kramer."

Lucius cocked his head to the side at the mention of the healer's name. He opened the bottle and poured a now fizzing wine unto his glass.

"Of course, I've heard that he's now in-charge of the infirmary. But... Hmmm. But then again, I think he is not loyal to the Dark Lord. If he was, he could've told us about what he found out during his examinations on the boy."

"I totally agree with that."

"Answers Severus."

"Of course."

The silence stretched on as the two friends were lost in their own thoughts. Snape wanted to tell Lucius about the possibility of the existence of other horcruxes but he knows that the man would do something drastic. He would just bide his time and watch how the two master manipulators move.

:

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:

Dumbledore frowned as he read the missive that he had just received. Nicholas Flamel had just written to him about a mysterious presence that his wards detected for three days in a row. But it couldn't be possible. Goblins won't allow anyone to open a vault just to store knickknacks – it should be something valuable. Their acceptance of the stone is enough proof that it is authentic and after the break-in a few days ago, Dumbledore thought that he had lured the perpetrator towards Hogwarts. But who dares threaten the Flamels?

He stood up and picked up the sorting hat. He hesitated for a moment before putting it on his head. He had no choice but to lower his Occlumency shields. He could hear the hat's voice in his mind; cussing, scolding and threatening him but he just ignored it and headed towards a faded painting of Hogwarts' first headmaster after the founders, Agamemnon Stewburry. He tapped various parts of the painting; a narrow passage suddenly appeared. Dumbledore immediately entered the passage. The passage was as narrow as it was short. It ended with a three-stepped staircase that leads to a well-lighted circular room with a floating dodecahedron formed out of different-colored rays representing the different wards active in Hogwarts. Some sides of the dodecahedron were missing but Dumbledore paid no mind to it, instead he headed to a table just below the dodecahedron. There was a scaled replica of Hogwarts, the Forbidden forest and Hogsmeade . There were colored dots on all over the model, indicating various magic-emitting creatures, individuals and artefacts. There were lots of yellow dots on the Forbidden forest, reds all over Hogsmeade and Hogwarts but there was also two dots emitting a slight dark tinge to it inside the Hogwarts castle. Dumbledore searched for more suspicious dots but there was none. His bushy eyebrows furrowed. There is no sign of _his _presence around Hogwarts. Could it be possible that _he _did not bit the bait?

Dumbledore immediately dashed out of the room without even a second glance. He breathlessly returned to his desk and grabbed a quill. He had an important missive to write after all.


	20. What I Weep for

**XX. What I Weep for**

"No need to worry, he's just paranoid."

"I know that…"

Dumbledore suddenly stopped mid-sentence as Healer Kramer passed by and politely greeted them. Dumbledore just nodded in reply while Moody's magical eye examined the healer with frantic speed.

"The children are coming though. Keep your guard up Dumbledore. I would return to the Flamels and stay on guard."

Before Dumbledore could say something in reply, Moody stepped down from the entrance hall and ambled towards the gates with a flask in hand. Dumbledore did not bother call the Auror back as he headed back inside the castle with a sidelong glance at the bright horizon up ahead. The first day of September is looking up to be a pleasant day; Dumbledore is just hoping that it won't be a long one.

:

:  
:

"Do you really want to go?"

"Yeah…yes Mom."

Mrs. Fitzgerald doubtfully looked at her husband. Darren looked clammy and restless as they walked along a desolate corridor in King's Cross station. Mr. Fitzgerald was pulling Darren's luggage and subsequently looked out for the door that served as a portal towards Platform 9 ¾.

"Don't ever believe on what Noel told you about the wizarding world. I asked Professor Burbage and she assured me that there are no such things as carnivorous bats and quicksand in Hogwarts."

Mrs. Fitzgerald reassuringly rubbed her son's back and felt the cold sweat on the boy's skin. She isn't really sure if sending Darren to Hogwarts is such a good idea. Darren never had strong accidental magic so it could be managed but he wants to go to Hogwarts for some strange reason: Harry Potter.

That name sounds hollow for her. She never met the boy but his son told them for what felt like a hundred times that witches and wizards abducted the boy. And how could she forget Darren's latest prattling on how Harry Potter was apparently a famous entity in the wizarding world. She sighed and let her husband and son in the decrepit door first before she followed with a great sense of foreboding. Moving here to England made her think that she could finally escape from her sister's nutcase world but apparently not.

:

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Steel grey eyes were locked on the dying flames in the huge stone fireplace. Draco Malfoy can't deny that he is quite nervous. He was fumbling for his cuff's buttonhole for several minutes now but it seemed to be quite elusive so he just gave up and folded his sleeves up to his forearms. Where were his parents when he needs them? They should be down here right now. He can't be late.

He barely sat on the couch. He was fidgeting all the while; the room filled up with incessant tapping of his shoes. Minutes ticked by and it was soon nine thirty. He sighed and slumped down on his seat. As he closed his eyes, all he could see are those green eyes and sly smirk as it turned away from him. Hadrian did not even spare him any moment. The boy savior seemed to be only interested in making introductions and nothing more.

_"A Happy birthday to you, Mr. Potter. The entire Malfoy family is ever grateful for your invitation. I am Lucius Malfoy, the head of the family and this is…my wife Narcissa and my son Draco."_

_Hadrian shook his father's hand and kissed the back of his mother's hand._

_"It's nice to finally meet you."_

_Draco hasn't missed his father's smirk but it immediately disappeared when Lucius noticed that it was only directed to Narcissa. There were flashes of different emotions on Lucius' face as Hadrian nonchalantly shook Draco's hand but it returned to its usual haughty expression as Hadrian faced him once again._

_"I've heard that you have interesting new bills pending for votation, Mr. Malfoy."_

_Lucius' expression immediately light up and he spared no time in steering Hadrian towards the table were a number of their allies were seated – totally ignoring his wife and son. Draco slightly frowned and almost let go of his aristocratic mask, almost but he looked up at his mother and noticed her satisfied look._

_"He's really what I expect."_

_"What do you mean mother?"_

_"You'll see."_

_Draco just nodded but deep inside he was fuming. The Boy-Who-Lived had just ignored him, Draco Malfoy the heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. He can't stand being ignored; anyone who subjects him to such humiliation shall pay._

But as he slumped there on the couch that had be on their family since the beginning of time, he felt somewhat confused. His father doesn't seem to mind at all. He doesn't even want to acknowledge that Draco was even present during the party but Narcissa seems to be totally amused every time said party was being mentioned. He just can't understand it.

"Draco."

Draco started as he heard his mother's voice. He walked towards his mother's direction. Narcissa immediately fussed on his hair and tugged down his sleeves. As she was buttoning his cuffs, Draco searched for something on her countenance.

"About the party isn't it?"

His posture immediately stiffened. He hates it when someone reads his thoughts.

"I did not son. It's just too obvious on your expression."

Draco once again searched his mother's face for any clue but he could see nothing but the mask of cold-neutrality she had long wore in public.

"Let's just say that your father wanted to play a game…"

"Everyone does that."

Narcissa just smiled and straightened up Draco's collar.

"A man wanted a boy to be left alone in the playground so that he won't learn the game and when the game come rolling, another boy who was trained all his life would have a sure advantage. But then, the boy proved to be a natural in the game and played without being taught or even knowing the rules…"

Draco slightly bowed his head, he doesn't know if he should be mad or annoyed at the same time.

"…he seemed like winning and he doesn't want to give the other boy the advantage of being on his side of the game; after all, this man made a rule that no one else would be on his team in the first place right?"

Draco clinched his fist and looked at his mother with a look of determination.

"So he doesn't want to be friends with someone like me?"

"No, no. Silly child. He's just giving your father a lesson – a taste of his own medicine."

"Won't father do anything about it?"

"_You _would do something about it son."

:  
:

:

"It's time to go Hadrian."

Hadrian seemed to be transfixed on the green flames that flared up as his father disappeared on its midst. Absalom threw a pinch of floo powder on the fireplace and nudged Hadrian towards the fireplace. Hadrian reluctantly stepped inside the fireplace and muttered 'Platform 9 ¾'. Before he disappeared, Hadrian saw Absalom's questioning look.

"Trying to find out how many laws of magic you can bend?"

Hadrian just chuckled and continued on his way, his eyes straight ahead on the scarlet locomotive. He did not even paid attention to Ulrich and Amandine as they walked beside him.

"Nervous son?"

A smirk was Hadrian's only answer. This made Ulrich chuckle as he simultaneously nodded in greeting to some familiar faces they passed on the way. Amandine just smiled in approval at Hadrian's slick crop hairstyle. Her smile widened upon the crowd's look of awe at their small family.

"Okay, it's almost time. I will unshrink your things now."

"Can't Tad help him out with the luggage Ulrich?"

"It's against the rules. Don't worry; Hadrian's capable of such trivialities."

The Dougherty's chuckled but they were interrupted when someone called 'Harry!'. Amandine looked annoyed upon hearing someone use her nickname for her son. No Pureblood child will ever use that name in addressing her son and no Pureblood child would shout at her son like that. Upon seeing a blond boy hailing Hadrian as if he's some sort of Muggle transportation, Amandine looked more annoyed at the obviously Muggleborn child.

"Harry, do you remember me; Darren Fitzgerald, the transfer student from Dudley's class?"

Hadrian just eyed Darren critically. The crowd's attention was now solely on the ongoing scene. Absalom was about to intervene when a bushy-haired girl came in barreling just behind the boy.

"Is it true? You're the famous Hadrian Potter? I've read about you in the Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?"

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me,"*

Hadrian just hummed in response, simultaneously checking out his well-manicured nails. Hermione seem to have not caught on Hadrian's sarcastic tone and continued on blabbering about things she had learned about Hadrian's history. Darren, noticing Hadrian's lack of response and the crowd's curious looks, tried to intervene.

"Harry, this is Hermione-"

"Oh where's my manners! I'm Hermione Granger. I just found out that I'm a witch…"

Hadrian just looked at the offered hand as if it's something foreign but Hermione was persistent and even raised her eyebrows at Hadrian's reluctance. Hadrian pulled out a glove from his cloak pocket and wore it before he briefly shook Hermione's hand. Hermione flushed red as she heard some people sniggering in the background but before she could give Hadrian a dressing down, Ulrich appeared beside Hadrian.

"Well, as interesting as it is to learn something about Muggle etiquette we are sad to inform you children that Hadrian here has to board the train. So leave him be."

Amandine immediately steered Hadrian towards the train and Scourgified him from invisible dirt brought out by Muggles. Before Ulrich headed back to his family, he turned back to the two children and sneered at them.

"Hadrian is my son's name, not Harry and I appreciate it if you won't come near him again. I don't want you to corrupt him with your Muggle ways the way you did in the past."

As he said the last part, Ulrich looked at Darren eye to eye. Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald was about to comment on that statement but Ulrich was already heading towards his family. The crowd once again started whispering at each other. Darren saw how some parents looked at their direction with distaste and then talked to their children with a strict expression. Darren felt somehow that it isn't worth trading his life for Hogwarts after all.

:

:

:

"Well, that was entertaining."

"Are you sure that Ulrich wasn't a Slytherin Lucius?"

"I'm sure Goyle. Ulrich was in Durmstrang while I ruled Slytherin."

The pudgy man laughed, echoed by the small group. Lucius just sneered and surreptitiously eyed his son. 'Don't embarrass me son' Lucius wanted to say to his son but he doesn't have the strength to. He subjected him into this situation and he is yet to receive word about Snape's inquiry on Kramer.

"I think it's time for our children to begin their Hogwarts journey."

Five children soon hurried towards the train to return to their seats. Lucius got his gold pocket watch out and watched the sole hand ticked to eleven. The train's whistle blew and soon the train started moving forwards. He shared a look with Narcissa and held her hand as they watched the train slowly disappear into the distance. He looked up into the horizon and saw the sun high up in the sky. How he wished that this day would end soon.

:

:

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Dumbledore was about to sign another document when a silvery owl suddenly appeared in front of him.

"I found them Sir!"

Confusion was evident on Dumbledore's face for a moment but after Reginald Allen's frantic voice settled down, realization seems to dawn on his face.

"Interesting."

:

*from canon


	21. Realizations

**A/N: Some dialogues in the later part of the chapter directly quote or paraphrase lines from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. **

:

**XXI. Realizations**

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:

:

"Someone's following us again."

"I know. But I can't smell their scent."

"I think it's only one person."

The two werewolves were on all fours, with noses high up in the air as if spotting for prey. One was an elderly werewolf, with scruffy burgundy facial hair and matted black hair. The other was relatively young and could be identified by any British wizard as the missing Auror, Timothy Wragner. But he would say otherwise. He's just Tim, the werewolf.

"If it's magical we would have a hard time losing it."

"I'll Apparate us."

The elderly werewolf eyed Tim doubtfully. For the past three years Tim had sparingly used his magical capabilities. He had even, on more than one occasion splinched himself.

"No. I think we should identify this person first so that we can tell Moony…"

"We don't need that Bob."

The aforementioned Bob looked hard and long at Tim before he crouched down to take a peek behind the thick foliage.

"They want you. We can't risk your Ministry tracking us down and placing us in those foul cells!"

"They won't…"

Tim cut himself before he could finish the sentence. Maybe, a part of him still believed that those people still cared for him but that thought was violent crushed by the reality that he now lives as werewolf.

"It's getting nearer. Prepare yourself kid. It could throw some spells."

"No, we should leave!"

Before the other werewolf could utter a protest, Tim grabbed Bob's arm and Apparated them out to safety but before they could fully disappear, Tim heard a ghost of a familiar voice calling his name; but he could have just been imagining things as they disappeared with loud pop, not seeing the worried look on Reginald Allen's face.

"Good. I can trace them from here. I'll confirm their destination."

Mad-Eye roughly shoved Reginald aside and Apparated on site. Kingsley Shacklebolt was left behind with Reginald but the ex-Auror was busy smoking on a thick roll of tobacco. Reginald walked forward and worriedly looked down at the scattered pieces of flesh that was on the ground.

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"Damn kid! I told you not to do it! Moony we're here!"

Bob ambled towards the cottage, blood trailing behind him. Bob was already in the safety of the small building when Tim heard a subtle pop. Tim sharply turned around; his right hand was tightly gripping on a gauge in his left leg.

"Aha! I finally found the little Wragner."

Tim could've felt comforted right at that moment upon seeing his old boss but there was something wrong about how Mad-Eye looked at him and how… His wand – Mad-Eye's wand made a subtle flick and then a downward stroke as if drawing a line. Tim knows what that wand motion was for and somehow it made him feel more nervous.

"Moony, leave with the kids! Now!"

"Reducto!"

"Aaaah!"

Tim dropped face-first on the ground; his left foot was shattered down into smithereens. Blood was gushing out of his shattered foot and was forming a pool on the ground. He could hear growls from inside the cottage and just hope against hope that Moony headed his command but no sooner after that thought left his mind, he could hear loud footsteps coming to his direction.

"Might as well aid you with that predicament of yours boy."

Tim ignored Mad-Eye's taunts and just focused on his packmates.

"Tim!''

"Children, go back inside!"

Moony emerged to the forefront, covering the children with his body. His glance swiftly darted from Tim's prone form, Mad-Eye's raised wand, the children and then to the two people who suddenly appeared.

"Just the person I need to see."

Tim tried to shout as Mad-Eye's lips moved to utter a spell. He just dug his fingers unto the loose soil and closed his eyes as a flash of green painted the back of his eyelids. Then hell broke loose.

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Darkness –sweet innocent darkness enveloped him but of course, it won't be for long.

"Um…ehem."

Hadrian did not bother open his eyes. He knows that it is Neville Longbottom standing by his compartment's doorway. The pudgy boy hesitated for a moment before finally stepping in the compartment and hesitantly seated himself near the door. He kept darting nervous looks towards Hadrian's direction and when the boy did not even recognize his presence, he slumped down on his seat.

Hadrian just continued feigning sleep. He succumbed further in the darkness and opened his senses a bit, hearing various sounds and voices as he did so. He focused on one voice and locked his senses on listening to the conversation.

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"He was totally rude! I can't believe it!"

The other occupants of the compartment just remained silent as Hermione continued ranting. Darren was leaning his head on the glass pane, with the guise of watching the passing scenery but his thoughts were somewhere else.

"We Muggleborns aren't really warmly welcomed by most Purebloods you know."

"Where did you know that?"

The small girl rolled her eyes at Hermione. She introduced herself as Lisa Turpin earlier. Darren was rather curious on the reasoning but he did not made it known that he was listening to the conversation. He just closed his eyes and drew lines on the foggy glass.

"My older brother also goes to Hogwarts. He's in fourth year and a Hufflepuff. He always bemoans at home how some of his Pureblood housemates treat him differently and the Slytherins would especially bully him and other Muggleborns. You know what they call our kind?"

Kevin Erstwhile leaned closer as Lisa whispered conspiratorially.

"Mudbloods."

Satisfied on their reactions, Lisa continued on her tale.

"They believe that we are inferior compared to them because we did not came from an established wizarding bloodline. Some even think that we get our magic by stealing their children's magic, that why there are Squibs they say. But that's just so illogical; I mean, how did that even happen? It's not like non-magical babies can do anything except poop and cry right? My mother was so against me going to Hogwarts but I can't control my magic. When I get mad, rocks start to get thrown about…"

"Professor McGonagall stated that attending a magical school is the only way to take total control of our magic as our core matures. So there's really no other option. And on the theory on how non-magicals or "Muggles" get magical…"

Kevin flinched at Hermione's straight-from-the-textbook explanation but Lisa, not one to be outdone added on an argument. The boy just sighed and leaned back on his seat, letting the girls take control of the conversation. Darren on the other hand was feeling the edges of an envelope from his shirt pocket, his mind still filled with confusing thoughts. Why was Harry so different from the one he knew before? Does blood really matters? What would he tell Samantha now?

:

:

:

Hadrian opened his eyes and took out a pocket watch. There's still four hours before the train arrives in Hogsmeade. He was about to stow away his watch when a hesitant voice broke the silence.

"I-is anyone sitting there?"

A tall, thin and lanky boy was standing by the doorway and if his entire appearance is any testament to his identity, he surely is one of the Weasley brood – Ron Weasley to be specific.

"Everywhere else is full."

Hadrian observed Ron long and hard. Ron was obviously nervous but as Hadrian stiffly nodded, the nerves seem to settle down and he stumbled on the seat opposite Neville. Neville made the same gesture at him before looking at Hadrian's direction.

"I'm Neville Longbottom by the way. I'm sorry for intruding in your compartment…"

"It's okay."

Hadrian smiled congenially, his blue eyes sparkling in amusement as he spoke. He leaned forwards and offered his hand to Neville then to Ron.

"I'm Fitzroy Combs."

"Ron Weasley."

"So you're a Muggleborn?"

Neville suddenly broke the awkward silence. He was eyeing the other boy's Muggle clothes that was until then hidden under the heavy traveling cloak. He looked at "Fitzroy's" long honey-blond hair with scrunched up eyebrows as if trying to figure out what's wrong about the boy.

"So what, right? Muggles are cool! I thought you were a girl at first look. That hair's…amazing mate!"

"Fitzroy" just smiled, still observing how the other two interact with him and towards each other. They all went back to their seat, each one avoiding eye contact.

"Are all your family magicals?"

Ron fidgeted on his seat and pushed down what looked to be a rodent's head back to his pocket.

"Er - Yes, I think so. I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

Neville scoffed from across Ron. The two turned and looked at him.

"In our family, there are no Squibs. The Longbotto-"

"Yeah, except for you." Ron half-whispered, half-snickered behind his hand.

"What did you say Weasley? You think my name's so funny don't you?"

Neville's chin was proudly up in the air, his face flushed in embarrassment. Hadrian could see that Neville was barely holding himself up. His clenched fist was trembling so was his entire body. Ron on the other hand was defiant. He did not miss how Neville eyed Ron's threadbare clothes. Nevile thrust up his chest to show Ron the Longbottom crest that was embroidered on the left side of his Acromantula silk jumper. This seems to anger Ron. The redhead flushed as almost as red as his hair.

"Yeah, so what! Squib!"

"Don't talk at me like that your Pureblood reject!"

Hadrian scooted far from the two bickering Purebloods and leaned by the window, watching the two with much amusement.

"At least I can do magic unlike you Squib!"

"Show me then on how the oh-so mighty Weasley can do magic!"

Hadrian perked upon hearing the dare. Ron's magic, though insubstantial was flaring up due to his emotions. He may not be able to do real magic but results of accidental magic had always been interesting.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat blob yellow."

As Ron was finishing his 'spell' the compartment door suddenly burst open, the lady manning the lunch trolley eyed Ron with an unreadable look.

"Did you just call me a fat blob?"


End file.
